Crossover
by Yingfa
Summary: GW meets Harry Potter. (Rating IS up) Two new chapters! Hmm, explanations about the delay can be found on my stats page. Sorry about that! Chapter 22 is sort of a trial, if you guys like it, it stays. So, review!
1. Prologue: Hermione Granger

Read this first!!!!!  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own ANY of the characters from either the Harry Potter Series or Gundam Wing. I'm only playing around with them for a bit, but I promise to return them ^_^! The reason I'm posting this here is because repeating this for every single chapter is mind-boggling.  
  
Also, a WARNING (I know how much people hate having to read things that they don't really care about, so lets make this short, ok??):  
  
There are certain thing in this fic that some of you might not like and/or not be old to read about (if that's the case, please don't continue. I do accept flames, but only as constructive criticism. If you didn't read this warning and you flame me because of it. well, I guess I'll have a bonfire and roast some marshmallow. Understood?? Besides that, I'll answer any and all questions you guys have). Another detail: I haven't read book 5 (read: I'm broke, so I can't buy it) and thus there won't be spoilers for it.  
  
Now, as for the things you might not like: there will be mentions of NCS (aka: Rape), character torture (and death), some gore, etc, etc. You get the point. Also, this is a YAOI fic (that means SLASH, m/m sex). If you aren't into it you might not like this.  
  
If this hasn't sacred you away, please read & review!!!!!!  
  
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Prologue  
  
The Great Hall of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was deadly quiet. That meant, by no means, that it was empty.  
  
Indeed, the whole student population was in attendance, all of them with their attentions fixed on the rapidly shifting images that were being projected in their midst.  
  
A tri-dimensional battle, fought in space, between humanoid looking mecha. "The war to end all wars" they'd dubbed it, but Hermione Granger mentally scoffed at the name. After all, hadn't they said that very same thing about every single previous war??  
  
She was still immersed in her mental rant about bloody idiots, as images of a ship impacting the battle fortress appeared before everyone in the hall. Explosions everywhere made the images look as if the very space were on fire. And yet, through it all, the Gundams fought on.  
  
Treize Kushrenada was dead and, with him, his ideals. All that remained was for a victor to appear and the fate of humanity would be sealed. For better or for worse, this battle had to end the war. There was no way that.  
  
Screams from everyone in the room drew her attention back to the images, just in time to see the terrifying image of Libra toppling towards Earth.  
  
A quick calculation by Professor Sinister had brought forth the sheer terror about her. Nuclear winter, and the death of all those in Europe, which would be the point of impact.  
  
The Gundams were coming out of Libra (how they got inside, she had no idea), but only four of them appeared. Too bad muggle devices didn't work on Hogwarts' grounds, since she was pretty sure there were cameras inside the fortress. At least that way they would know what was going on inside and.  
  
Libra's explosion interrupted her thoughts (which, it seemed, she wasn't entitled to finish) and no one could keep in a sigh of relief: they were safe!!  
  
The happiness, though, was short lived, as someone screamed  
  
-"It's falling!!"  
  
Horror struck again as a piece of Libra, still big enough to destroy life as they knew it, continued to fall.  
  
Several seconds of suspense followed, as they all watched doom approaching.  
  
And then Hermione caught sight of it, the angel-winged Gundam was falling alongside the piece of the fortress, both of them beginning to burn, as their angle of reentry was erroneous.  
  
And yet, the small-looking Gundam kept falling, slowly gaining on.  
  
And then, it was spinning, pointing a pathetically small-looking beam cannon at the falling colossus. The shot went clear, and they watched in unadulterated joy as the last threat vanished.  
  
Screams of happiness and relief surrounded her, and yet, her eyes still followed the small figure that continued to fall. the now incredibly frail- looking angel that had saved them all.  
  
The images disappeared as Dumbledore stood up and wished them a Happy Christmas and then sent them to bed.  
  
But still, the images haunted her, as her mind kept her awake and frozen in time.  
  
Still watching that tiny-looking Gundam fall towards Earth. 


	2. Chapter 1: Duo Maxwell

Chapter 1  
  
Sixteen-year-old Duo Maxwell gapped at the creature before him. Of all the things he had prepared himself for, as he watched Hilde run for the hills while screeching something about the mail, the last one had been the innocent picture of an owl (of all things) sitting comfortably (could the bloody thing even sit?!) on top of his desk.  
  
Bright amber eyes regarded him seriously, before the owl motioned to the letter lying before it. An envelope made of what seemed to be some kind of yellowish parchment, with the words  
  
To Mister D. Maxwell  
Hilde's Scrape yard  
L2  
  
greeted his eyes. Turning the envelope revealed the wax seal that kept it closed: a lion, a snake, a bird (an eagle?) and some sort of furry looking animal he didn't exactly recognize were entwined with a big letter H. Circling it were the words: DRACO DORMIENS NUNQUAM TITILLANDUS (whatever the hell that meant!). He turned again to the front, to find written at the top:  
  
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry  
  
in the same green ink as the address.  
  
A puzzled expression overcame Duo's face. Was this a joke of some sort? Drawing out his mental list of people he had pissed off lately and checking it for people that would have pulled back a prank revealed nothing, and left him goggling the envelope just as he had for the last few minutes.  
  
The owl moved impatiently in its place, obviously fed up with Duo just standing there doing nothing. Well, either that or (as Duo quickly summarized) it was waiting for something.  
  
The boy commonly known as the braided baka finally opened the envelope, to find that inside were several pieces of the same parchment: one was a ticket to board the Hogwarts' shuttle; the second was a first class airplane ticket to England; another seemed to be a list of some sort, so Duo turned to the third in hopes of getting some sort of explanation.  
  
It turned out to be a letter:  
  
HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY  
  
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore  
  
Dear Mr. Maxwell,  
  
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts  
School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all  
necessary books and equipment.   
  
Due to recent events, the whole student body has been kept back for a  
year. As so, we have included the texts of earlier years in your list,  
up to the ones you'll need for the fifth year courses you'll be  
attending.  
  
Trips to Hogsmead have been cancelled, for the same reason.  
  
Please also find the shuttle pass and plane ticket. The shuttle will  
depart from the L1 International port on August 30th, at eleven am.  
Please be punctual. There will be a trip to acquire school supplies on  
the 31st, here in England.   
Term begins on September 1.   
  
Yours Sincerely,  
Professor M. McGonagall  
Deputy Headmistress  
Order of Merlin (2nd class)  
  
Duo blinked. Oook. Plenty of info, but no explanation. He pondered the letter for a while and then looked at the owl. It looked right back at him (which was frankly unnerving).  
  
-"I guess I should send a reply, ne?"  
  
The bird looked on expectantly (probably wondering if Duo suffered from brain damage, considering how long it had taken him to think of that).  
  
Duo looked at the letter one last time, and decided that no matter if it was and obvious joke, it would not be said that Duo Maxwell was a coward that could make pranks but couldn't take them,  
  
A couple of quick line later, the owl flew out the window, just as Hilde peeked into the room to find Duo staring after the bird.  
  
When she had seen the stupid feathered ball coming through the window she had freaked. There were definitely no birds of that size in the colony's wild life. That it was carrying a letter made it even more surprising. But that the letter seemed to come from outside the colony (as testified by the seal of the port authority on a corner of the envelope). Well, that was a little too much. Better let Duo deal with it, while she went for some painkillers. She had a migraine coming.  
  
And now, she came back to find Mister I'm-a-Gundam-pilot-and-nothing- surprises-me-anymore staring in shock after the bird, the letter opened on his desk.  
  
-"Duo, are you alright?"  
  
He turned to look at her, his expression unchanged, and handed her a piece of. parchment? She quickly read it through and turned to him.  
  
-"Oh. And who pulled of this prank? And what did you do to this person?"  
  
-"No idea, to both questions. But I'm gonna find out."  
  
-"So you're going?"  
  
-"Yeah."  
  
-"And if it isn't a joke?"  
  
-"Then I'll deal with it as best I can. Think you can take care of this place for a few days?"  
  
She planted her hands on her hips, an annoyed expression on her face.  
  
-"If you haven't forgotten it, this place is mine, Mister Maxwell, and I managed to pull it through the war on my own, and I did fine!! So don't you dare treat me so patronizingly about it!! I can manage it just fine!!"  
  
Duo looked at her with this funny, totally clueless expression.  
  
-"I just meant that since you're a girl and all, you might want to hire some help or something."  
  
-"So now you're gonna treat me like that, you chauvinistic jerk!?"  
  
-"No!! It's just."  
  
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Back in England, an amber-eyed owl dropped a small letter before a woman that wore a rather pointy hat.  
  
It only said:  
  
Coming  
D.M.  
  
The woman smiled. 


	3. Chapter 2: Harry Potter

Chapter 2  
  
Harry Potter was not a normal boy. He wasn't even a normal wizard. There was one particular thing that remembered to everyone who saw him just how different he was: a long scar, shaped like lightning, that marred his forehead. The brand that declared him Boy-Who-Lived. The mark that announced his curse to everyone who cared to look.  
  
At the moment, Harry slept, dreaming of things long past, of the present, of the future.  
  
An amber eyed woman doing something forbidden, a staff in her hands, a child at her feet.  
  
A picture burning, five boys in uniform in it clearly visible.  
  
The view of space from some sort of shuttle, a battle raging around the frail ship.  
  
Neville and Malfoy, lying side to side, fast asleep on a dirty floor.  
  
A woman, with long red hair and very long fangs, in her hands the blood of the innocent.  
  
A soft voice, calling as if from far away, telling him that what blood begins, blood can also end.  
  
The dream changed to the now usual visions of Voldemort enjoying himself by killing muggles and wizards alike, and, with one painful struggle, Harry woke up.  
  
Jade eyes looked around their tired owner, quickly showing that the room was juts as he had left it before going to bed. With a sigh, Harry turned on the flashlight that he kept under his pillow and opened the small book he had left on the desk by his bed. In it he had recorded every single dream he had had during the summer, in hopes that later inspection (when he were a little calmer and a lot more awake) would give him some sort of clue as to what was the meaning of his most recent nightmare.  
  
It had begun a little while after arriving to Privet Drive, and it always came before his visions of his parents' murderer and his would-be killer.  
  
It was the first time that a dream of his hadn't changed with time. It was always the same: the succession of images ant then the voice (which he believed belonged to a woman) telling him that one single phrase.  
  
His eyes turned towards the far wall and he sighed again, this time in contentment, as he remembered that there were only three more days until his return to Hogwarts.  
  
Tomorrow he would go to Diagon Alley with the Weasleys in order to get school supplies, and the day after that he would be back to the place he considered his home.  
  
Five am. Two hours until the Dursleys woke, and he didn't feel like going back to sleep. He had finished his homework the night before, so that was out. Hedwig was out, probably hunting for some tasty (at least in her opinion) mouse for her own breakfast. The thought of his faithful owl brought back to memory the present he had received from his godfather, Sirius. It was a slim black book, completely innocent looking. And yet, it was anything but.  
  
Simply titled "The Animagui Transformation", it had turned out to be the book from which his own father (and Sirius, of course) had learned everything about how to become an Animagui.  
  
He had already told his best friends about it, and both Ron and Hermione were all but dying to get their hands on it.  
  
He couldn't keep back a smile as he pictured their excited expressions. He was dying to try it himself, so he empathized with them.  
  
The book though, cautioned anyone that dared to attempt the transformation to learn first several spells and quiet a bit of information before going for it.  
  
As Sirius had also cautioned him about it, they had decided to (for the first time in their lives) take it easy and do things with some caution. After all, if caught, they would be sent before the Ministry, and considering how Fudge was acting. better to be on the safe side.  
  
Several pages and a rather complicated spell (which he hadn't attempted, but just memorized) later, the snoring coming from uncle Vernon and aunt Petunia's bedroom stopped, and Harry hurried to hide both books and the flashlight underneath the loose floorboard and began making his bed. Better be doing something when uncle Vernon arrived. His ribs were poking out more than enough, no use in getting another beating so close to his escape date.  
  
Everyone else back at Hogwarts was troubled enough as it was, for him to drop his problems into that pile.  
  
At least, he would be of age in a couple of years and he wouldn't have to come back to Privet Drive ever again.  
  
Finished, he turned around to check that he wasn't missing anything, and his eyes came to rest on his letter from Hogwarts.  
  
The usual ticket and supply list, but his letter this year was quiet a bit different.  
  
For one, he was told that everyone would have to retake the last year, and he could easily guess as to why.  
  
The other news were that, as the muggle war was over, the school would be now giving admission to students from the colonies. It had been quiet a shock to find out that there were no magical schools off planet, and he knew that people had a lot of prejudices against colonials. But he couldn't keep himself from wondering what the new students would be like. 


	4. Chapter 3: Quatre Winner

Chapter 3  
  
Quatre Winner was hard pressed to keep back the contented smile that threatened to bloom on his face. For years, he had watched as his sisters left for school on earth (carrying back and forth the most unbelievable things) while he had to stay at home and wait for his turn. The war has severed his opportunity, and he had thought he would never get his chance of finding out what the deal was with the mysterious school. His disappointment had lasted until one of his sisters had barreled into his room (at six in the fucking morning) and told him that his letter from school had arrived.  
  
And now, he was minutes away from taking the flight to earth, on his way to Hogwarts. One look around the shuttle port revealed a large group of young people, fifty or so, whose ages seemed to range from eleven to their late teens.  
  
Still being sixteen meant (according to his sisters - and the writers of the letter) that he was a fifth year, which in the end meant that he was really behind other students. Well, it wasn't expected from him to keep up with his studies while fighting a war, was it?  
  
One look at the heavy trunk that Rashid was hauling behind him answered his question with a rather loud: of course!  
  
With a sigh, he motioned for Rashid to stop.  
  
-"I can take it from here."  
  
-"But, Master Quatre."  
  
A beaming smile killed Rashid's tirade before it even began.  
  
-"I fought a war, I'm pretty sure I can take care of myself and my luggage in a shuttle port, Rashid. And besides, I'll only be waiting a couple of minutes."  
  
-"But."  
  
The puppy-dog look came out in full force.  
  
-"Please?"  
  
The Maguanac's resolve melted.  
  
-"As you wish, Master Quatre."  
  
While his tall self-appointed bodyguard set the trunk on a cart for him to haul, Quatre inspected again the group he had guessed would be his classmates.  
  
Impulsively, he found himself looking for a familiar face, but all seemed to be strangers.  
  
With a quick goodbye to his friend, he moved to join the group, just as two adults moved to the checkpoint.  
  
-"All of you, silence!"  
  
The caller was the woman of the pair. Her yellow eyes swept over the small crowd before her.  
  
-"I'm Madam Hooch, and this is professor Snape. We will be boarding the shuttle in a few minutes. Now, I want you all to group by years. First years on the far left, seventh years on the far right. Lets go people, move!"  
  
It wasn't as much the woman's words as the man's snarl that got everyone moving. Quatre found himself all but sandwiched between two seventh year gorillas that seemed to believe they owned the place. For a second, the blond considered pulling out the charmed gun Rashid had gotten for him (he didn't even want to ask where the Maguanac had found that) but he found himself suddenly pulled out of the bullies' clutches.  
  
_"You really should be more careful, Winner."  
  
Onyx eyes regarded him with barely veiled amusement, as their owner guided him towards where the other fifth years were assembling.  
  
-"Thank you, Wufei. Are you going to Hogwarts as well?"  
  
-"I'm here to find out what this is all about, as are the others."  
  
-"The others?"  
  
Wufei didn't answer, and Quatre didn't need him to, as he caught sight of a very familiar braid and a pair of startling emerald eyes.  
  
-"Duo!! Trowa!!"  
  
-"Q-ball! What's up?!"  
  
Trowa nodded in greeting, as Duo all but glomped him.  
  
-"You guys are going too?"  
  
-"Well. I came to find out what this was about. It sounded quiet a bit like a joke, so."  
  
Trowa shrugged.  
  
-"I was curious as well."  
  
Wufei nodded his agreement.  
  
Quatre looked around, searching for a familiar pair of Prussian blue eyes.  
  
-"Does anyone know where Heero is, or if he got a letter?"  
  
Duo's happy expression disappeared, and somber looks went all around.  
  
-"I don't think anyone has seen him since the end of the war."  
  
Wufei motioned to Duo as he talked, easily conveying his meaning: the American was still hurting over Heero's goodbye-less disappearance.  
  
It has been common knowledge between the pilots that Duo was madly attracted to Heero. More than a few times had they seen clues that attraction was giving way to love. But, through it all, Heero had remained oblivious to Duo's covert advances, which had caused the American no end of grief.  
  
The final straw had been Heero's disappearance. Duo had crumbled, and it had taken the three remaining pilots, Hilde and Howard to cheer him up again. Duo had changed, though, more than he himself cared to admit.  
  
Quatre couldn't help feeling sorry for his braided friend. After all, he could easily relate himself to what Duo was feeling. The only difference was that Trowa hadn't lost touch (at least not completely).  
  
-"Don't worry, Duo. I'm sure that Heero is ok, and that we will be seeing him again." 


	5. Chapter 4: Minerva McGonagall

Chapter 4  
  
Minerva McGonagall, transfigurations expert and deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts, was (at the moment) not a happy lady. She understood the importance of this mission, but damnit, it was Hagrid's job to find out why students hadn't received their letters, not hers.  
  
She should be back at Hogwarts, not scampering (in cat form) through the slums of L1. Still, with Hagrid away on his own mission, someone had to come find the troublesome boy.  
  
The tracking spell had led her into this part of the colony, and (bloody hell!) she wasn't leaving without the boy.  
  
Male voices assaulted her sensitive ears and she ducked into the nearest hid hole she could find.  
  
-"Well, what did ah tell ya? He's a hell of a good fuck, ain't he?"  
  
-"An expensive one, at that. Some of the guys won't be fucking nothing for the rest of their lives, you know?"  
  
-"Ah still think it was damn worth it. Asses like that don't grow on trees, ya know?"  
  
Both men chuckled as they left the alley.  
  
McGonagall remained hidden for a little longer, hoping that they wouldn't return. She really didn't want to face the likes of them in her life.  
  
After a while, she left her hiding spot (in a dumpster) and moved further into the alley. At the very end she found a door, the only one in the dirty side street. After a cautious look around herself, she returned to her human form and tried the door. An 'Alohomora' later, she was making her way into a dark, bare room.  
  
-"Lumos."  
  
The faint light allowed her to see a door in the far corner. Beyond that was a corridor, with doors lining both walls. Most of them were open, except the one to her far right (which would make it one of the rooms on the back of the building). With careful movements, she made her way towards the door. Upon opening it she found, not the room she expected, but two ancient looking staircases. The one going upwards was halfway to collapsing, so she took the one that went down.  
  
At the end she came to a damp, dungeon-like basement that had obviously not been cleaned in a long time.  
  
For a second McGonagall considered going back, but the tracking spell was still working and it was telling her that the person she was looking for was nearby.  
  
With a muttered curse (one that would probably get her a surprised cheer from some of her Gryffindors) she moved forward. She had come this far, might as well finish what she had begun.  
  
At the end of the corridor she was in, she could see what was clearly a cell (which gave the dungeon theory even more weight).  
  
As she approached, she could hear an uneven and painful breathing. In a corner of the tiny, bared room, she could see a small, slim figure. Clothes were missing, and she could clearly see that the boy had been starved and terribly abused.  
  
-"You're not one of them."  
  
The voice was raspy, and she flinched at the thought of what had caused the child's throat to be so sore. Probably screaming.  
  
The boy raised his head from where it rested against the wall and gazed at her with empty, ancient-looking eyes. And yet, she could still see his will, the defiance in his expression that told her he was far from broken.  
  
-"No, I'm not. I'm here for you."  
  
He arched an eyebrow and asked, in obvious mockery:  
  
-"Shin no tenshi?"  
  
At her obvious confusion, he turned away and murmured softly:  
  
-"I guess not. Not even the angel of death would want me now."  
  
-"Ah, so that's what it means. Sorry to disappoint you child, but I'm as mortal as you are and. . . "  
  
-"I doubt it."  
  
-"I beg your pardon?"  
  
-"We're not the same, you and I. I'd have to say you're better off."  
  
McGonagall gazed at him levelly. She didn't quiet understand what the child meant with that, but she knew that they didn't have time to play twenty questions.  
  
-"Alohomora."  
  
The boy's eyes widened as the door opened.  
  
-"Could you do that with this chains? I tried breaking them, but they are gundanium and."  
  
He had been extending slender wrists in her direction, but quieted as she tapped the chains with her wand to release him.  
  
He immediately tried to stand up, but his muscles refused to cooperate.  
  
-"Good heavens, child!! How long have you been here?!"  
  
-"A very long time."  
  
The bitterness in his voice quieted her on that subject.  
  
-"Hmmm, could you.?"  
  
Slender hands motioned to his nude body and McGonagall could feel herself blush.  
  
-"Oh, yes. of course. Vestimentia!"  
  
A pair of jeans, a t-shirt and sneakers.  
  
-"That ought to do."  
  
-"Thanks."  
  
The both stood there, uncertain of what to do next.  
  
-"Do you trust me?"  
  
Dark eyes inspected her quizzically.  
  
-"I guess."  
  
Now that wouldn't do.  
  
-"I need you to trust me. I can get us out faster if you do, or we'll have to try our chances out there."  
  
The boy gave her that searching look again and nodded.  
  
McGonagall immediately extended her hand for him to take.  
  
-"Now what?"  
  
-"Now. we apparate."  
  
With a pop, they were gone. 


	6. Chapter 5: Ron Weasley

Chapter 5  
  
Ron Weasley had become, during the last few minutes, the proverbial mass of nerves. He had tried telling himself that he was only going to see his friends again for the first time in months and that there was nothing new in this, but fact was that things had changed a lot during the last year.  
  
With a real killer taking out the students in their dreams, his first try at fifth year had been a disaster. In the end, the faculty at Hogwarts had decided to skip the OWLs, NEWTs and end of term exams and simply have the students retake their lost year.  
  
Hermione had been the last student targeted, and both Harry and himself had been forced to use a rather dangerous spell to enter their friends mind in order to save her. It hadn't been pleasant and, as the spell bordered closely on being dark magic, the teachers had not been pleased with them.  
  
As such, Hogwarts had been immersed in such fear, terror, that no one (not even Hermione) had found the time and/or concentration required to do homework or, worse, study. And so, the faculty had, obviously, taken the decision that it was better to keep the whole school back for a year. Ron could imagine Snape's expression when that decision had been made. He had probably looked as if he had been constipated for a month.  
  
The only good thing that had come out of the previous year had been his first kiss with Hermione. Granted, it had been during the time they had spent within her mind and thus (technically) it didn't count, but the memory had haunted him during the whole of his vacations. Not even Quidditch could take it out of his mind. And, if he was completely honest with himself, it was the reason why he was so worked up over seeing his friends again.  
  
After all, Harry knew about the kiss (hell, he had been there!!) but Hermione didn't. Or at least she didn't seem to. Ron could only hope that it had stayed in the girl's subconscious, he didn't think he could live with himself if it didn't. For Hermione to find of his crush that way would be even more humiliating than belching slugs before half the school (God knew he should know about that!!).  
  
Somehow, the twins had found out about some of the things that had gone on during that particular adventure and still hadn't lent off of the teasing (another very good reason for the kiss to be kept as top secret, since they probably would never let him live it down. Correction, make that an absolutely never!!!).  
  
A familiar voice came from behind him, already fretting over schoolwork, and he couldn't keep back a smile. No matter what happened, Hermione would never change. His one hope was for that to never change. It was a dying hope, but one to which he clung with all his might.  
  
This war was stripping everyone of their innocence, little by little, but inexorably nonetheless. It seemed to be more than wishful thinking, the expectation of them making it through the year alive. That had been the only thing his mother had asked of both his siblings and him: that they stayed alive (and preferably in one piece). They had all promised to at least try. And yet, wishful thinking or not, as he looked at his best friend and the girl he loved, he knew he would do everything in his power to see them all through. 


	7. Chapter 6: Severus Snape

Chapter 6  
  
Albus is going to pay, this I solemnly swear. It's not as if he will miss a couple of fingers, right!?  
  
That bumbling old coot knew about this, he had to!! He always knows everything and, above all, he knows how much I hate children!!  
  
Why, oh why did he have to send me of all people in this stupid "pick up some more brats for us to teach" mission!?  
  
Hooch (damn the woman!!) fell asleep an hour into this wretched flight, leaving me to deal with all the little hell-spawns. Fifteen minutes later I was ready to wring all of their collective necks and to heel with the consequences. And that was long before that braid-totting maniac made his presence known by making the sword-totting psycho (oh, hell. Now they come armed to school!!) chase him around while shrieking like a bloody banshee.  
  
Tying and gagging them didn't work, they were back at it less than five minutes later (how they escaped, don't ask me. At least I had taken away the sword). The ex-sword-totting idiot was soon joined by two other boys: one of them sported the weirdest hairdo I've ever seen (and, living in close proximity to Albus Dumbledore, that is saying a lot) and a blonde boy that was screaming at the top of his lungs that they shouldn't kill him.  
  
For a second, I felt like joining them. Only I would have screamed for them to kill him as slowly and painfully as possible. Even better if they could get Sirius Black to suffer accordingly. Hell, I'd even help them hide the bodies!! Now, there was a very fine deal!!  
  
Ugh, as if dealing with the dream team (Potter and his tag-alongs) and Malfoy (cronies included) wasn't enough, now I'm going to have to deal with those. those. Oh, bloody hell!! Now I can't even think of an adjective that fits!! There simply isn't anything nasty and/or sarcastic enough to describe them!!  
  
Albus shall better beware. He isn't just going to pay. He will suffer!! He will die!!  
  
Darn. This is the part where I'm supposed to cackle madly, isn't it!? Damn that stupid werewolf and his comics. Manga, he calls them. If I didn't know better I'd think they were bewitched to force people to keep on reading them. and then for annoying quotes from them to pop up at the most bizarre of moments. Grrr, I'm never again reading something that the furball recommends. Well, at least now I know how he kept himself so perky during Albus' meetings (more like monologues). Most probably he was laughing in his head at the annoying quotes that seem to find it funny to pop up at the most bizarre times during the old man's speeches. They make it goddamn near impossible not to laugh, let alone keep a straight face!!  
  
Hmm. I've been mussing for a really long time, haven't I? I can feel my subconscious trying to kick my brain into gear. It seems to believe that I've forgotten something. Me!! As if.  
  
Even so, it's becoming annoying. I make my decision and stand up. A look around reveals that everything is normal. Just a bunch of children chatting about (semi) peacefully.  
  
I all but snarl at my subconscious. I haven't forgotten anything. Everything is fine. Now, could I go back to minding my own business!? And yet the stupid thing insists that something is wrong. What's more, it's becoming frantic.  
  
I'm about to chew it alive (metaphorically speaking) when I hear the loudest crash I've heard in my life. My mind immediately panics: crash+spacecraft=trouble. Lights begin to flash everywhere, emergency ones. I'm surprised to see how calmly the children react: they all pull their spacesuits from underneath their seats and step into them, each of them checks that their neighbor has adjusted his/hers and then they check if anyone else is having any trouble.  
  
I take my cue from them (hell, this is my first space flight, we apparated to the shuttle port) and pulled mine on. Hooch was awake now and was doing the same.  
  
A few minutes go by while we wait to learn what has happened (with my brain still screaming at me), until finally a flight attendant appears to inform us that it was a false alarm and to ask Hooch and I to follow her. We do so, and soon find ourselves in the small crew compartment at the end of the ship, where the four stooges have been locked.  
  
Ok, so I had forgotten about them. It seems the psycho had found a weapon after all: a pipe (God knows where he got it) and, during their antics, managed to damage the pressurization controls of the passenger cabin.  
  
Ok, Albus isn't the only one that will die as soon as we arrive at Hogwarts.  
  
Bloody hell, with my luck, this four will be Gryffindors!!! 


	8. Chapter 7: Poppy Pomfrey

Chapter 7  
  
Madam Poppy Pomfrey was, in her own words, fit to be tied.  
  
An hour ago she had been preparing for the arrival of the students by double checking her supplies, when Minerva McGonagall had all but stormed into the infirmary. Behind her (and obviously under the mobilicorpus charm) came a small, slender boy that looked like he hadn't seen the interior of a shower room in quiet some time. Poppy hadn't dared to comment (lest Minerva be really as pissed off as she looked) and turned her attention to evaluating the boy's condition. It was less the satisfying (and that was the biggest understatement of the year).  
  
By what the deputy headmistress told her (and what her own evaluation had revealed), they could piece together that the boy had been under serious abuse for at least three months. The wounds of the flesh would heal easily, but the wounds of the mind.  
  
It had come as no surprise, thus, that upon waking the child had bolted for the farthest, darkest corner he could find. It was heart- breaking to watch those wide, dark eyes look at them with such distrust.  
  
In the end, she had to use a relaxing charm so that he would allow her to move within healing distance. And even then, she could see that his every nerve was on edge.  
  
Injuries treated (as fast as she could) and the child was immediately guided to a bed and ordered to change into a set of pajamas and to lay down.  
  
She then turned towards Minerva and sent her a "look", trying with all her might to convey the message "you had better explain" to the other witch.  
  
Minerva looked slightly affronted at the insinuation of her not telling the truth of the matter, but she finally mouthed something that suspiciously resembled the words "Albus' office" and Poppy reluctantly agreed.  
  
By then, her young charge had finally settled into bed and seemed to be assessing them both more closely. Whatever he saw seemed to help him calm down enough for him to allow Minerva to approach his bed.  
  
-"You must be hungry. Would you like something to eat?"  
  
A cautious look.  
  
-"I assure you it will be edible and will not contain anything remotely similar to a drug."  
  
Poppy sent a pleased smile at Minerva as her own coaxing seemed to convince the boy.  
  
Well, that and the quiet impressive roar of his stomach.  
  
It was a blushingly humble little boy who finally ate his porridge.  
  
Half an hour later, and both women were pleased to see the boy curl up under the blankets and go to sleep, obviously feeling quiet safe in their company.  
  
A glare at Minerva served to remember the stern woman that explanations were still needed and got both women to begin their trip to the headmaster's sanctum.  
  
They hadn't even made it to the door when hurried tapping on one of the windows and a faint screech gave them pause. They both turned towards said window and caught sight of a snow-white owl.  
  
-"Hedwig!!"  
  
Minerva was letting the bird in before Poppy even managed to recognize it. An image flashed through her mind, though. A pale, green-eyed boy, the owl sitting comfortably on his shoulder.  
  
-"Harry Potter's owl?"  
  
Minerva was frantically trying to untie a small scrap of parchment from the owl's leg.  
  
-"Yes."  
  
The dark haired witch finally got the letter and began to read.  
  
The door to the infirmary crashed open, Albus Dumbledore standing at its threshold.  
  
-"What does it say, Minerva?"  
  
Slightly panicked dark eyes locked on him.  
  
-"The express has been attacked."  
  
For a second, Albus looked as if the whole world rested on his shoulders. But only for a second.  
  
-"We must go. Poppy, we will probably need on-field medical attention, so you're coming with us."  
  
Both witches nodded.  
  
-"How far away do you think they are?"  
  
-"An hour by train, at most."  
  
Poppy immediately began packing some potions, just in case.  
  
The door opened again, this time to admit Hagrid.  
  
-"All is ready, professor Dumbledore."  
  
The group hurriedly moved to vacate the silent infirmary, not realizing how truly empty it then was. 


	9. Chapter 8: Trowa Barton

Chapter 8  
  
Trowa Barton had been enjoying himself, even if he didn't show it. The look on professor Snape's face when Wufei and Duo had escaped from his magical ropes had been priceless, and would have made his day had it not been that the trip ea only beginning.  
  
Diagon Alley had amazed them all, and had immediately become Duo's new playground.  
  
Two hours and several particularly interesting non-magical curses later and Snape had managed to corner the braided maniac. The poor man had been a sight to behold: robes in tatters, covered in feathers and other. interesting substances (acquired while running through the Owl Emporium), hair quiet burned (pet salamander section, in the pet shop), red faced and snarling at everything that moved.  
  
Had Trowa been anyone else, he would have laughed his ass off. A it was, he still proceeded to do so, while holding up an equally mirthful Quatre. Wufei had looked as if he couldn't decide what to do: laugh or save Duo's as and then laugh.  
  
The matter was taken out of their hands by Madam Hooch. She had come into the store, looked at them all and then dragged Snape away (smiling widely) with the excuse of "cleaning him up".  
  
The rest of their shopping excursion had gone much the same way, to the hilarity of their companions (well, except for Snape).  
  
But all good things must come to an end, and this one did so with a short floo trip to Kings Cross station and platform 9¾ so that they could all take the train to school.  
  
The Express had turned out to be a bright red, ancient looking machine, in surprisingly good condition. Considering it was taken care of with magic, it shouldn't have been so surprising, but non of them had ever been so close to such an old, functioning machine.  
  
Snape had taken one look at Duo's child-at-Christmas expression and taken a hasty retreat.  
  
Madam Hooch had finally lost her composure and laughed to her heart's content. Duo had looked proud (immensely so) of himself; Wufei, comically exasperated; Quatre, mirthful; and Trowa was pretty sure that he himself had looked vaguely amused.  
  
The train was quiet big, but finding seats for the four of them in the same compartment had been somewhat hard. They finally found an empty one at the end of the train and proceeded to claim their space.  
  
A few minutes after leaving the station, though, the door was flung open and three kids about their age walked in: a tall, red-haired blue-eyed boy; a petit, bushy-haired cinnamon-eyes girl; and a short, green-eyed dark- haired boy (whom sported the weirdest, lightning bolt-shaped scar on his forehead).  
  
The trio froze, as if not expecting there to be people in that particular compartment.  
  
The girl quickly pulled herself together and remembered her manners.  
  
-"Hi, my name's Hermione Granger. This are my best friends: Ron Weasley and Harry Potter."  
  
She motioned to the red-head and the green-eyed boy as she spoke. The later took a lightly defensive expression, as if expecting them to comment.  
  
-"Pleasure to meet you. I'm Quatre Winner, and these are my friends: Trowa Barton, Wufei Chang and Duo Maxwell."  
  
Leave it to Quatre to play his civilian role impeccably.  
  
-"What, no Raberba?"  
  
Although Dou should really be throttled with his own braid. Or perhaps they should lend Wufei's katana to Snape. Trowa was about to loose himself in the possibilities of untraceable murder when he caught sight of Quatre's pointedly raised eyebrow.  
  
Ok, it would have to wait.  
  
The eyebrow rose higher, and he decided to let it go, this time.  
  
A full blown frown.  
  
Ok, plans to murder Duo abandoned indefinitely.  
  
Quatre's sunny expression returned before he could even blink.  
  
It was freaky how he did that.  
  
Hours went by, spent in chatting up their companions and stuffing themselves full with the tasty little treats they had bought to a witch that had passed by with a cart full of candy.  
  
Duo had gone for seconds and, if the screeches coming from the front of the train were any clue to go by, he had gotten himself into trouble.  
  
The braided menace had returned a few minutes latter, looking like he had been on a fight, but with his maniacal grin firmly in place.  
  
They had spent a few more hours talking.  
  
And then the train had stopped and the lights had gone out.  
  
Something was wrong.  
  
All four of them had immediately moved to secure the door and window. Hermione proved to have a good head under pressure: with a soft "Lumos", she gave them enough light to see what they were doing, but little enough not to be noticeable.  
  
Harry moved towards the window and peeked out. When he turned around, his face was ashen.  
  
Hermione grabbed his arm while Ron asked  
  
-"What is it?"  
  
Harry looked at him, wide eyed.  
  
-"Death eaters." 


	10. Chapter 9: Draco Malfoy

Chapter 9  
  
I had sat on my own (ok, I was surrounded by Ravenclaws, happy?) for most of the trip to school.  
  
The bright fools surrounding me had been trying to guess why I would voluntarily stay in their midst and where on earth could my ever present bodyguards be?  
  
I pretended I couldn't hear them, which suited them just fine. As if what they had to say mattered.  
  
The truth is: Slytherin's Ice Prince is no more.  
  
Why?  
  
Good question. And here's your answer: because he opened his big mouth.  
  
It started easily enough: dinner at the Malfoy manor, a couple of intimate family friends in attendance (the Parkinsons, Zabinis, Crabbes, Goyles, etc.). As I said, innocent enough.  
  
That is, until your dearest, darlinest (please note the sarcasm) father tells you that tonight you have to get the tackiest tattoo in history (at least in the magical world's history).  
  
Now that is when everything went to hell.  
  
You see, I'm a loud-mouthed show-off. I admit it. Ok, so up to a point I do share Voldi's beliefs about the supremacy of the Purebloods. Except when it comes to killing the muggleborns. Don't get me wrong, I despise muggles, but I don't believe they all should die.  
  
If there is a thing I am, it's a realist. If wizards hadn't married muggles, they would probably be extinct.  
  
Anyway, let's just say that I was less than pleased about my father's great news.  
  
It probably showed on my face, because I could see horror dawning on my mother's expression. Horror, and maybe even a bit of hope.  
  
My father, though, was not pleased. He raged, screamed and threatened, but my decision was made a long time ago.  
  
The "friends" left a quickly as they could, not wanting to witness my murder, I guess.  
  
The minute they were all gone, though, my mother threw herself to her knees before my father and begged him for my life. She got her wish, at a price.  
  
So now I'm Draco Williams, son of Narcisa Williams, member of a common, if pure blooded, family.  
  
Now, that's why the bodyguards will never be back and why I sat in that awful, Ravenclaw-infested compartment, hoping against hope for a trouble- free ride and a trouble free year.  
  
That's why I can say that the train stopping before time and the lights going out were not things on my "to happen" list.  
  
The Ravenclaws immediately panicked. Lack of facts, proved ones, does not make for happy Ravenclaws.  
  
A soft voice from the compartment next to ours gave me pause.  
  
-"Lumos."  
  
Granger! Oh, fuck. Just the last thing I needed: to be on curse distance of the Boy-Who-Lived.  
  
-"What is it?"  
  
Bloody hell!! Weasley!! Definitely not my day!!  
  
-"Deatheaters."  
  
Ok, that was probably the last thing any of us needed.  
  
-"Deatheaters? What the hell are those?"  
  
The holy triumvirate and some newbies, at least two from what I could hear. Things were about to get nasty.  
  
Screams came from the front of the train, drowning Granger's hurried explanation. I readied my wand and prepared to unleash every single curse I had ever heard of. The unforgivables even, if necessary.  
  
The door's opening took me by surprise. Standing at the threshold was a boy with slick, dark hair pulled back into a tight ponytail. He was of obvious oriental descent, and was carrying a rather bad-ass looking katana. He was quickly identified as one of the newbies, as I had never seen him before, but seemed quiet capable of taking care of himself. I trusted him implicitly.  
  
-"Get up and move into the other compartment. Now!!"  
  
I complied, the Ravenclaws froze.  
  
-"I said now!!"  
  
That and a rather nasty glare got them moving.  
  
At the other compartment, we found the dream team and three other new boys: a blonde with aqua-colored eyes, a green-eyed boy with weird bangs hanging over one eye, and a kid with the brightest violet eyes I had ever seen, along with an at least three foot long, chestnut-colored braid.  
  
They all had the same air as the other guy: capable and battle weary. For a second I wondered if all the colonial students would be like that.  
  
-"What now, Q-man?"  
  
-"I'm not sure. These are magical opponents, Duo. We don't know enough magic to face them effectively."  
  
-"We need help."  
  
Everyone turned towards me. I rolled my eyes.  
  
-"Potter, that feathered thing behind you is your owl. It's purpose is to carry letters. Does this ring a bell? Or should I spell it out for you?"  
  
A particularly loud and close shriek made us all wince.  
  
Granger immediately moved towards her trunk in search of parchment.  
  
Screams in the corridor had the rest of us tense and prepared for the worst. We all took defensive positions near the door and window as Miss- Know-It-All let the owl go.  
  
The only thing left to do was wait. 


	11. Chapter 10: Amanda Hooch

Chapter 10  
  
Amanda Hooch had always considered herself to be a calm and collected person. Yes, she liked pranks and jokes, but she had always been able to keep an underlying cool that usually got her out of tight situations.  
  
This was, thus, the reason why the sudden panic that seized her came as a complete shock to her. An unwelcomed one.  
  
She could see Severus peek out the window, and the foul cursing that issued forth told her that her fears were indeed truth: the Deatheaters were attacking the Hogwarts Express.  
  
She closed her eyes and gathered her scattered wits and her courage and moved to join the man at the door.  
  
-"What do we do?"  
  
He sent her an unreadable look.  
  
-"If they are attacking this close to Hogwarts, it means they will come down on us hard. We won't be able to save all the children."  
  
-"The seventh years should be able, and willing, to help. The sixth years, too."  
  
He considered that.  
  
-"Lets try to get as many of the children as we can into the last compartments and-"  
  
Screams came from the front of the train.  
  
-"The barriers around the front compartment are gone. Listen to me, Amanda. Get everyone you can find into the last compartments. Set the seventh years in charge and come back. I'll try to stop them here, and to help whomever is still alive at the front. Now, go."  
  
She went.  
  
The door opened silently and they both made their way into the corridor; she turned right, he turned left.  
  
Everything around her was darkness, as she crept towards the next compartment. The fact that she had to do so while avoiding being seen through the windows didn't help her nerves. The no-light policy included wasn't helpful either. And lets not talk about the fact that she kept ramming into every single object that was in her way.  
  
She finally reached the door next to hers and gently eased it open. and promptly ducked to avoid being hit by a curse.  
  
-"Jesus! Children, it's me!!"  
  
Hushed voices could be heard, and at last George Weasley appeared from within the shadows.  
  
-"My apologies, Ma'am."  
  
Amanda's eyebrows hit the roof. A Weasley twin being polite? For a second he began to fear he had flipped, until she took a real good look at his expression. A time for the books: a Weasley twin actually behaving like the young man he was supposed to be.  
  
Fred seemed to materialize beside his brother. Following in his heels appeared Angelina, Alicia, Katie, Lee, and two kids that looked like first years.  
  
OK, so she had managed to get most of the seventh year Gryffindors in the first try(-"More like eight years."-muttered a little voice in the back of her head). Now all she had to do was get them moving.  
  
-"I'm going to need your help. The barriers around the first car are gone. We need to get everyone to the rear of the train and reinforce the defenses. All of you seventh years will be in charge. Now, lets go."  
  
They all hesitated for a second, until Lee moved towards the door. The others followed, grim-faced, while Angelina grabbed the first years by the hand.  
  
-"Any idea where the other seventh years might be?"  
  
-The Slytherins should be close by, they were pestering us earlier."  
  
Alicia scowled as she mentioned that last, obviously not happy.  
  
-"Lets go."  
  
They all went into the corridor, crouching low so as not to be seen. The next compartment held several (younger) Hufflepuffs. They were frightened, but obedient and immediately joined their little exodus. The eldest Slytherins and Ravenclaws were found a few compartments away, along with several younger children from different houses.  
  
The seventh year Hufflepuffs and several first years had been in the first compartments. There hadn't been screams for a little while.  
  
Her group had already reached the middle of the train and, thus, grown considerably. Even if they were all moving as quietly as they could, the soft sounds of so many people in movement would sooner or later be noticed.  
  
-"Pst, Angelina!"  
  
The dark skinned girl turned towards her.  
  
-"We'll never finish this way. I want you and every other seventh year to take positions every few steps, all the way to the back. I'll stay here, sending you groups of children."  
  
The girl nodded, released the first years she had been guiding, and went in search of her yearmates.  
  
Half a minute later, and the first groups were already on the move. She sent them as close as she dared, and the proceeded to send whomever she could find in the compartments.  
  
Just as she began congratulating herself, the screaming began. Her mind immediately knew what had happened, and her heart seemed to freeze in her chest.  
  
The barriers at the rear of the train had just been breached. 


	12. Chapter 11: Terry Boot

Chapter 11  
  
When the train had stopped and the light had gone out, everyone around Terry (and Terry himself) had panicked. Obviously, they had good reason to do so, especially if you considered the whole deal with the Dementors during third year and the Headmaster's little announcement during fourth year. That, and lets not forget what had happened less than three months earlier.  
  
When the screams began, two of the girls had begun to cry. But, somehow, that had managed to calm him down quiet a bit. He might not be as brave as a Gryffindor, but he also wasn't a spineless Slytherin. Damnit, he wasn't going down without a fight.  
  
A gesture of his caused the others to quiet, all of them becoming attentive to his orders. Peeking out the window told him very little: it was dark and, worst of all, it had begun to rain, making it virtually impossible to distinguish anything out of a certain range.  
  
That left the door.  
  
The corridor was dark and quiet, but by no means empty. Small figures that he quickly recognized as his schoolmates were moving in small groups towards the rear of the train.  
  
-"Padma!!"  
  
At his soft hiss, the dark haired girl froze like a deer in headlights.  
  
-"Terry! You frightened me!"  
  
-"What's going on?!"  
  
-"Deatheaters, at the front of the train. Madam Hooch told us to go to the rear."  
  
Fear was blatant on her pretty features and he couldn't help wishing he could reassure her. Not the time, though.  
  
-"Alright, we are coming with you."  
  
At his words, the others in the compartment followed him outside. Dark eyes flashed with something akin to happiness, before Padma nodded and began her trek down the corridor.  
  
Terry could feel his heart throb at her expression, but convinced himself that she was only relived that she wouldn't be alone and that they were all going to be safe soon. Yes, that had to be it.  
  
The two last cars of the train were becoming crowded. In every compartment people would sit on people or on the floor, all of them trying to make as little noise as possible.  
  
Terry had barely enough time to sit down next to Padma, when a loud cracking sound could be heard from the very back of the last car. It raised in pitch until they all had to cover their ears in pain, and then it suddenly stopped.  
  
The "seventh" years (should be eight years, in his opinion) reacted immediately, pulling everyone they could to their feet and ordering them to move towards the middle of the train.  
  
The older Gryffindors and Slytherins moved to take defensive positions near the doors of the last car, but before they could reach them they were flung open and the Deatheaters began pouring in.  
  
The air suddenly went alight as curses and counter-curses began flying all around them. Terry grabbed onto Padma's hand with only one thought: he had to keep her safe.  
  
Both of them made the run down the corridor, leaving the screams and the battle behind. Close to the middle of the train, he stopped their crazed sprint and began trying the exit doors.  
  
-"Terry, what are you doing?"  
  
-"Looking for an exit."  
  
-"But. Parvati and the others are still there!!"  
  
-"I'm getting you to safety first. Then I'll come back and help."  
  
Before she could answer, another voice did.  
  
-"The outside is even worse than inside the train, Mr. Boot, so you might as well come with us."  
  
They both spun in time to see madam Hooch and Professor Snape appear from within the shadows, the later being the one that had spoken. Both teachers made quiet the pitiful sight: robes torn and bloodied, faces bruised and pale.  
  
-"We should get some more kids, Severus, before trying another run towards the woods."  
  
-"The dark man nodded and turned back to the two teens.  
  
-"Come with us."  
  
It was as direct an order as orders get, so they did as told.  
  
Wands in hand, they began moving again, this time towards the battle.  
  
They had barely moved three cars closer, when they found an open door. There were no signs of battle or even a scuffle, but quiet a lot of people had gone out, as attested to by the amount of footprints visible on the mud. Snape inspected everything around them and even poked his head out the door.  
  
-"I believe it's safe. The Deatheaters have concentrated on the spots were the magical protection around the train could be breached. Mr. Boot, take Miss Patil with you and run into the woods. Try to go straight to Hogwarts, we don't know what else they have planned. They might have taken Hogsmead, for all we know."  
  
Brown eyes locked on black, and Terry finally nodded. He would do it, if only because then Padma would be safe.  
  
With one last look, he grabbed her hand and sprinted into the darkness. 


	13. Chapter 12: Morag MacDougal

Chapter 12  
  
She had been sitting beside Pansy Parkinson when the lights went out and had been one of the first to realize what was happening. Survival instinct had kicked in hard, and had flung most of the "fifth" year Slytherin's into a flurry of activity.  
  
Gryffindors might be bold and Ravenclaws might be smart, but it is the Slytherins that make it through no matter what.  
  
Everyone would have expected Pansy, or perhaps Blaize, to lead the others in Draco's absence, but if there was one thing Morag herself was good at, it was ordering people around.  
  
Within seconds, she had managed to get the others on the move, avoiding the occasional panicky Hufflepuff on their way to the closest exit. Non of them were going to remain as sitting ducks for the Deatheaters to slaughter.  
  
Outside, it was raining and cold. Darkness had already crept up on them, rendering their visibility near zero. A quick spell, though, revealed that there were no Deatheaters waiting for them in the near proximity and thus they all made the run towards the surrounding forest.  
  
The clearing they soon found themselves in offered the opportunity to regroup and plan. It was too open a position to hope that they could stay there, but at least they could see each other. . . barely.  
  
Gryffindors, Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws soon made their way into the clearing, soaked to the bone and most of them shaking with terror.  
  
Less than ten minutes after Terry Boot and Padma Patil arrived, and just as they were preparing to try to make their way towards Hogwarts, Cho Chang erupted into the clearing.  
  
It happened so fast that non of them had time to move, as they watched the girl open her mouth and the flash of green light at her back.  
  
Cho's eyes dulled immediately and she collapsed, a vaguely shocked expression on her face.  
  
If there was one thing that would have mobilized those in the clearing, it was watching the Ravenclaw seeker die.  
  
Next thing that any of those watching knew was that they were running madly in the direction they all believed Hogwarts to be. Non of them wanted to look back and see. . .  
  
Morag was hauling an oddly passive Pansy with her. The girl seemed to be far away from the muddy forest they were in. . . as if her mind had evaporated along with Cho Chang's life.  
  
The minute curses began flying around their heads, though, the blonde came back herself and began making use of her wand (if not her brain).  
  
The mad race had already been going on for several minutes, and Morag knew that neither of them would be able to keep it up for much longer. They didn't practice any sports, and thus had an almost nil level of endurance.  
  
Just as her knees began to bend beneath her weight, they came upon a new clearing.  
  
A very not-empty clearing.  
  
The herd of hippogriffs moved in annoyance at their intrusion, but Morag ignored that. Without stopping, she flung Pansy to her knees before the nearest one. As she collapsed beside her companion, she noticed that the blonde was already trying to get to her feet.  
  
-"Wait! Pansy, they're hippogriffs!"  
  
That got the blonde to freeze, just in time to see the hippogriff bend its knees before them.  
  
Both girls quickly scampered onto the beast, wondering why the Deatheaters hadn't caught up with them yet, but too frightened to stop and think about it.  
  
The hippogriff took to the air, hopefully flying in Hogwarts' direction, and both girls pressed closer to one another in an effort to fight the cold.  
  
Thankfully, the lightning had stopped and darkness reigned. With a little bit of luck they wouldn't be noticed.  
  
Pansy's body was warm, and she was so very tired. . . sleep began lurking in the wake o her now disappearing adrenaline high, and she would have willingly fallen into its embrace. . . had it not been for the Avada Kedavra that barely missed her head.  
  
Both Pansy and the hippogriff screeched in indignation as they realized what hat nearly happened. The girls turned and caught sigh of the three Deatheaters trailing them, the hippogriffs they rode wearing collars that Morag recognized: the poor beasts were under a for of Imperius.  
  
-"Oh, Morag. They're really trying to kill us!!"  
  
-"You idiot!! You just noticed?!"  
  
Pansy turned tearful eyes towards her.  
  
-"My father's with them."  
  
-"He's one of them?!"  
  
A soft nod. Morag gave her a pitying look. She didn't even dare to hope that her uncle wouldn't kill her on sight. The Macnairs never backed down when it came to killing. But to have your own father trying to kill you. . .  
  
Curses were still flying their way, so Morag began returning fire. . . leaving Pansy free to worry about where they were going. A lucky Impedimenta left them only two Deatheaters to deal with, but Morag's already tired body was draining fast. Very soon she wouldn't even be able to cast a Wingardium Leviosa.  
  
A happy squeal from Pansy made her turn, just as the final clouds parted and Hogwarts came into view. Every light was on, making the castle and its surroundings glow. And that included the bubble-like shield that now surrounded the school.  
  
Pansy immediately tried to get the hippogriff to stop, or at least change course. Behind them, they could hear the Deatheaters' cries of triumph, as they got their rides to speed up. They were going to sweep in for the kill.  
  
The girls were almost at the shield, their hippogriff intent on crashing into it. Pansy's hands left the beast's feathers to curl around her best friend's were they rested against her stomach. They both closed their eyes in preparation for the impact. . . heard the Deatheaters scream. . . felt a sudden cold and. . .  
  
Two pairs of eyes opened in shock and they caught sight of the castle's main doors right before them, the hippogriff flying towards them.  
  
They had made it.  
  
They were there. 


	14. Chapter 13: Heero Yuy

Chapter 13  
  
He ran. The cloak he had grabbed on his way out of the school was doing quiet a good job of keeping him dry, along with hiding his identity.  
  
One of the centaurs that lived in the woods had been nice enough to give him a ride for most of the way, but now he was on his own.  
  
Something deep inside him was telling him that there was something very wrong going on and that the teachers were going to need his help.  
  
Not far away from him, he could hear people screaming and see multicolored flashes of light. There seemed to be some sort of fire, probably toward the front of the train he had heard about, and in its light he could see the attackers. Long black robes and white masks, the dark colors helping them merge with their surroundings.  
  
Heero crouched at the edge of the forest as pain finally caught up with him. With a muttered curse, he realized that he had to keep on moving, hoping that adrenaline would help and that his injuries wouldn't slow him down.  
  
No time for regrets, though. The nagging feeling was getting stronger every second, and his whole body felt high-strung and battle weary. Hopefully, what he had would be enough.  
  
As he moved towards the train, he caught the soft sound of voices coming from his right. He hid in the vegetation and crept in that direction.  
  
Six men had set an ambush, not very far from the train. For such supposedly thinking individuals, they had chosen the worst spot possible to do so (or at least in Heero's more experienced eye). All the men were armed with wands, but one of them was also sporting a wicked looking sword and a really nice set of knives. Those would work nicely. The japanese smirked. Piece of cake.  
  
Ever so slowly, he moved around them towards the train and, with a deep breath, he made the sprint into their chosen clearing. Almost immediately, curses began to fly. He ducked and rolled out of the way, and in the process managed to get near the sword guy. Before the idiot could react, his pockets had been thoroughly picked and his weapons were gone (wand included). Heero couldn't keep back a grin as the guy looked down at his empty hands in dawning horror.  
  
-"Will you idiots bloody kill him!!!!!!!!!!!!"  
  
Yep, the guy and his buddies really needed to be taught a lesson. He kept on avoiding their attacks for a few seconds, and then he threw himself against the nearest guy.  
  
The knife went in all the way to the handle, blood gushing out onto his fingers. The guys eyes widened behind his mask, as if he had belatedly realized that he was death.  
  
*Blood, trailing down his fingertips. Pain. A scream.*  
  
Heero mentally shook his head, clearing it. No time for that, he had to concentrate or he would end up death.  
  
The idiots had frozen, shocked at their companion's death. That gave Heero enough time to cross the relatively long distance towards the next guy. This one managed to see what was coming, and tried to fight back, but he had lost precious seconds already and had no time to prepare. Heero came down on him hard, knife and sword at the ready. A slash diverted the man, and thus the knife went in just as cleanly as it had before.  
  
*Warm amber eyes. Shock. Fear. A gunshot.*  
  
The first man had taken one of the death guys wands and had conjured himself a new sword. He moved towards Heero with the practiced ease of a swordsman on the warpath. The japanese waited for him to reach the middle of the clearing and then threw himself at him, trying to end it as fast as possible. If the screams coming from the train were to give him a picture of what was happening, this had taken to much time already.  
  
A barely visible opening, and his sword was finally making its way through the others defenses. The man collapsed, heavily injured, but not deathly so. It'd have to be enough. His other opponents had already made a run for it, which left an open path towards the train.  
  
The knives strapped to his wrists and ankles, he made his way again towards the battle. The screaming has stopped very suddenly, and he didn't like it.  
  
As he approached his goal, he could see small forms coming out through different exits and making their way into the forest. They were quiet obviously the students, which meant that there was someone battle-worthy helping them inside. He'd have to be careful once he got into the train, no point hurting someone that might just make his job easier.  
  
At the edge, he crouched and inspected his surroundings. Noticing no danger, he made the sprint towards, and ducked under, the train. That way, it was easier to move towards its back, were the hottest part of the fighting seemed to be taking place.  
  
He froze underneath the last cart, taking into account his enemies' positions and what they were doing. Soft voices distracted him though, especially since they seemed to be coming from inside the compartment above him.  
  
-"Hermione, I don't think this wards are going to hold much longer."  
  
-"Well, Ron. . . I. . . I just don't. . ."  
  
-"She doesn't know what else we can possibly do, Weasley."  
  
-"Do you have to sound so snide while saying it?"  
  
-"Kisama!! There is no time for this bickering!!"  
  
-"He's right, you know."  
  
-"Well, Potter, Mister I-always-make-it-out-intact-from-fights-with- Deatheaters, care to give us some of your supposedly clever escape tactics?"  
  
-"It's called bloody good luck, Malfoy."  
  
-"Figures."  
  
-"What would happen if we all build one single ward, instead of many superimposed?"  
  
-"You know, Q-ball, that ain't such a bad idea."  
  
-"It might just work."  
  
-"Well, what are we waiting for?"  
  
Decision made, Heero moved towards the side of the train where the less Deatheaters (was it?) were located. He waited until they were all distracted, and then went for one of the train's windows. It crashed upon impact with his body, and he was flung into a roll that took him to the middle of the corridor. Luck was on his side, and his hood stayed on. Those inside the train had frozen at his entrance (it was becoming an annoying pattern) and thus didn't react in time to avoid their deaths. Black-robed, white-masked figures collapsed like flies around him, as the few students left around made mad dashes through the train in search of safer exits.  
  
It was almost like a dance, a deadly one, where it was everyone for his own. Duck, swing, punch, dodge. His body was adrenaline charged and a strange elation was taking it over. Every movement became even more precise as the instincts that had remained dormant since the end of the war came back to the forefront. Blood splattered the walls, the sickening crack of breaking bones and the soft cries of the dying filled the air, and it was like he was watching the fight through another's eyes. He watched them fight, he watched them fall and he watched the die with a detachedness that felt almost alien.  
  
Almost, but not quiet.  
  
He could feel it, bubbling up inside him. . . looking out through his eyes at the damage it could cause. . . craving its release and yet having too much fun to attempt an escape. . .  
  
The floors were already slippery with spilt blood, windows and walls splattered with it. And more were coming.  
  
It was like they craved death, just as the thing inside him craved their blood. He was barely keeping it reined back. . . but it was taking most of his concentration, which left his body operating on auto-pilot. He knew that nightmares of what he was doing would haunt him for the rest of his life, but for the life of him. . . he couldn't stop.  
  
The teasing tendrils of the darkness it brought caressed his mind, and he fought them back with all he had. No matter what, he wouldn't give it the release it wanted. . . the freedom to destroy again as it once had. . .  
  
His body coming to a sudden halt brought his attention back to his surroundings. . . and to the carnage for which he was solely responsible.  
  
Bodies lay everywhere, blood pooling about them, horrified expressions on their mangled faces. He could feel bile raising through his throat. He pushed away the feeling and checked that there were no students between those he had killed.  
  
Thankfully (in a rather sick sort of way) all the children that had died showed signs of having done so under the effects of magic. He didn't know how he knew, he just did and he wasn't going to question it too much. . . at least not here.  
  
Voices he recognized from the infirmary were moving towards him, from the front of the train. Instinct kicked in again, and he bolted. He just couldn't let them see. . . he just couldn't.  
  
He ran the way he had come, through the rain and the dark, muddy forest. He just wanted to get back to the warm infirmary and the comfortable bed and forget, nestled between the covers, that he had ever been in the site of the attack. . that he had killed again. . . that he had massacred those men. . .  
  
He didn't know how long he had been moving, and yet he could already see the castle's lights. His hood had somehow remained on, even during the fight, and he was detachedly thankful for it. At least no one could have recognized him, even if they had seen him (a vague impression of glass-made doors came to mind). His infirmary-provided pajamas were another thing entirely. Anyone that saw them would know what he had done, as they were now that disgusting shade of maroon that come from mixing blood, water and a healthy supply of mud.  
  
He made his way to the infirmary's windows and, once inside, went in search of clean clothes. It took surprisingly little time to get rid of most of the evidence (a shower and a conveniently place fireplace had done most of the job), but he still had to get rid of the sword and the knives. He had cleaned them as well as he could, but he had no way of explaining how he had acquired them while lying on a bed.  
  
As he searched for a hiding place, he caught sight of the nurses potions' cabinet standing open. Guiltily, he searched for the potion she had used to heal his various cuts. Finding the bright, green-colored liquid, he took a sip and immediately felt the few injuries he had sustained heal. He locked the cabinet, so as not to arise suspicion, and went on with his search.  
  
Less than ten minutes later, and he was back in the infirmary and settling down into his bed. He knew that he was going to have nightmares. . . but he was incredibly tired. . . just for a little while. . . sleep sounded so good. . .  
  
Just as sleep was finally claiming him, the doors were flung open. He sat up straight, surprised, and looked towards them. . . only to find eight black-robed, white-masked figures standing there. 


	15. Chapter 14: Lucius Malfoy

Chapter 14  
  
It had been almost fifteen years, and yet the power rush was still just as exhilarating as it had ever been. Just as sough after, just as craved.  
  
It still came at a prize, though, and Lucius wasn't quiet sure if it was really worth it. Since the summer after Draco's fourth year, he had begun questioning past choices, and the repercussions they had on the child he loved more than life itself. Even more than power.  
  
That summer he had been presented with what were probably the harshest truths of his life: Narcissa didn't love him (hell, for all he knew, she was having an affair); he was once again reduced to being a simpering, boot- licking underling to what he now considered to be a madman (if man was still a term that could be applied to "that" thing); and Draco would never willingly follow the path that Lucius himself had so carefully set down for him.  
  
That had been the sole bright point to an excruciatingly miserable time. Ok, so his "wife" had been dropping hints (more like hollering at him) that she would do everything in her power to keep their precious son out of Voldemort's claws. He was frankly inclined to agree with her (not that he would ever tell her that) and had thus taken the appropriate steps to keep his son free, without looking like a traitor before Voldemort's eyes.  
  
Narcissa had caught up with him soon enough and began helping him whole- heartedly. It had been the first time in years that they had worked together as a team, and damn if they weren't good at it.  
  
Everything had reached its climax during Draco's sixteen birthday, and now his son's future was set.  
  
Lucius had been incredibly pleased with himself, until he had arrived to the meeting arranged on August 31st. Voldemort had locked them all in one room and told them what he wanted them to do. At least three quarters of those in the room had frozen with shock. Those that hadn't. . . well, they weren't parents.  
  
To kill their own flesh and blood. . . their innocent flesh and blood, just to prove to the madman that they were loyal. . .  
  
He had seen the doubt and the disbelieving fear that had begun to nag at those around him shine clearly in their eyes.  
  
The Parkinsons, the Zabinis. . . hell, even Crabbe and Goyle had looked horrified at the prospect.  
  
Others, like the Lestranges or Macnair had obviously been unaffected by the orders and looked at those that were with as much contempt as they could muster.  
  
The next few hours had been a living nightmare, as they all waited for the timing to be appropriate for the attack. That way, non of them could rat out the plans in hope of saving their offspring.  
  
As the hour rolled by, Lucius had apparated with his fingers crossed, hopping against hope that Draco would be smart enough to keep out of sight.  
  
The job assigned to him had been to stop the children from escaping through the forest. Easier said than done, as per usual when dealing with the dark lord, but he had obeyed. Taking the five men in his command, he had set an ambush in an appropriate looking clearing and waited. He had not been disappointed.  
  
Several minutes later, and when he was beginning to rethink about his chosen location, a small, cloaked figure had tripped into the clearing. All six of them had jumped out, acting as menacing as possible (not a difficult task, considering that they were six grown men against a tiny looking child). Lucius had begun congratulating himself for their first catch of the night, when he had felt his whole body become lighter.  
  
It was with shocked surprise that the fact that his sword, knives and wand were missing had registered into his mind, and by the time he had looked up, he had been able to catch sight of the death of one of his men.  
  
The "waif" had then turned towards the nearest man, and continued his attack.  
  
Lucius' brain had taken precious second in getting a kick start, but once it did, he flung himself towards the first man to fall. As expected, his wand was still in his rapidly cooling hand, and Lucius had used that to conjure a new sword. There was no way he was going to let that little upstart use a family heirloom of his to murder the men under his command.  
  
Their impromptu little duel had been fast and harsh. Whomever this child was, he had been extremely well trained in the art of swordsmanship, even if his style was unfamiliar to Lucius, and he wasn't giving the blonde any openings to work with.  
  
The sudden flash of pain was so unexpected, that Lucius couldn't help the small, surprised cry that escaped him. The blood dripping from the wound and over his torso, and the fact that he suddenly found himself face up on the ground with the rain splashing against his face told him everything he needed to know. For the first time in twenty years, he had lost a white weapon duel.  
  
A convenient flash of lightning allowed him to see his opponent strapping the pilfered knives to his limbs. As if knowing he was being watched, the child raised his still cloaked head to look at Lucius' barely conscious form. A vague impression of midnight blue was all the blonde was able to catch as the light became even more intense. . . and he knew no more. 


	16. Chapter 15: Chang Wufei

Chapter 15  
  
Wufei had managed to keep himself calm and collected during the whole trip from L1 (little, and very accidental, mishaps not withstanding), had even managed not to murder Maxwell before a ship full of innocent bystanders. . . but locking him in tight quarters with Maxwell (and quiet a few others) and expecting him to be levelheaded and rational was overdoing it.  
  
He was used to fighting, to facing danger heads-on and relaying only on his own capabilities to make it through. . . this whole "magic" business was going to break havoc in his life, he just knew it.  
  
After sending the feathered ball of to deliver a S.O.S., they had all made a rather rushed war council: it was quiet a bit obvious that they would never make it to the nearest door without many of them being injured (if not killed). It was also noticeable that most of the "children" (he just couldn't bring himself to think of them as equals, at least not in this kind of situation) had no experience when it came to battle situations. Thus, they were stuck.  
  
The best idea that they had managed had been reached thanks to a consensus between the bushy-haired girl (who said her name was Hermione) and the blond boy (a rather impolite one. . . he would have been down right annoying, but Duo Maxwell held the title of "King of all that is annoying" and, thus, the kid was out of the running). The idea (building a set of wards, as powerful and close to one another as possible) had been set to practice (With much to chanting, in Wufei's opinion).  
  
At least the wards had held, for a while. But Wufei could somehow feel that they were slowly crumbling under the pressure of all the magic output going on outside the door.  
  
The battle there was raging, and he couldn't help but feeling even more angry at the thought of his katana, left inside his trunk and thus now out of his reach, and the people he would have been able to save had he had it. But his fellow pilots had stopped him from jumping into the melee unarmed in order to keep him from being killed. . . Damnit!!!!  
  
The screaming had stopped in most of the train, except around the compartment they were in. Deatheaters (as he had learned their enemies were called) were torturing the students they had managed to catch, and their victims shrill screams were the only sound left. Nightmares would come, with what was happening just a thin glass-made door away as main theme, he was sure, and they would mock their inability to help those that needed them. Of all the stupid things they had done during the war, being caught unarmed had been the only one none of them had incurred in. How he wished Yuy were here, the japanese was a walking armory! Although, how he managed to keep so many weapons on his person was still a mystery. . .  
  
Anyway, and much to his chagrin, between the lot of them, all they had was a magical gun, a small throw-able dagger and a pocket knife. Now, if one was that McGyver guy, then one would be able to achieve everything with his trusty pocketknife. . . but as none of them were even related to the guy (as far as he knew) they were in rather the sticky position. Also, they all had wands, but the pilots had little to no idea of how to use them, and they couldn't very well trust their very inexperienced companions to use whatever magic they knew to get them out of the train, and. . .  
  
Loud thumping noises coming from outside the doors distracted Wufei from his internal monologue, and brought his attention back to the matters at hand. . . just in time to see one of the Deatheaters impact the wall opposite their door. The man's throat had been slit, in a rather professional looking manner, and blood was dribbling down his body as he struggled to breath. His efforts were useless, as Wufei well knew, and soon the man had collapsed into a bloody tangle of limbs. Only then did the chinese boy realize that there were other bodies piled up underneath the man, and that blood was beginning to puddle everywhere in the corridor. That meant there were quiet a few corpses outside their door and in the surrounding area.  
  
A black cloaked figure suddenly streaked past the door, they heard the sound of a brief fight, and another body dropped before this line of sight. Several stab wounds, a huge slash from shoulder to hip and a broken neck testified to the man's death status.  
  
Silence descended over the train for a second, and then the same cloaked figure as before streaked past their door again and exited through a nearby window. Using his companions distraction, Wufei ripped himself out of Winner and Maxwell's hold on him and marched himself to the door. It opened upon his touch, and he immediately closed it behind himself. Magic or no magic, he was a warrior and could protect himself. That didn't mean he was going to let other die beside him, though.  
  
The corridor was the scenario of a rather chilling bloodshed. Whomever that cloaked guy had been, he was a professional. Non of the students seemed to have come to harm at his hands, but the Deatheaters that had been in attendance were all death. He was ankle deep in blood, and could see it streaked through the walls, windows and ceiling. A massacre, without a doubt. He sure didn't want to see that guy again, no matter how helpful he'd been.  
  
A soft noise from behind him alerted him to his fellow pilots' presence in the corridor.  
  
-"Don't let them come out."  
  
-"I have no intention of doing that, Wu."  
  
If he answered to that, they would get sidetracked. . . as usual.  
  
A brief check of the bodies revealed no weapons, and he could hear people coming their way. The foursome took defensive positions (as best as they could) in the corridor and waited.  
  
A minute later, the greasy-haired professor appeared, carrying with him his rather limp-looking female counterpart.  
  
-"What happened?"  
  
No beating around the bush, ne? Winner took over the task of explaining, as they returned to looking for anything that could possibly constitute a weapon.  
  
Meanwhile, their other companions had made it out of the compartment and, after several sickness episodes between the lot, they had begun moving the injured into the compartment.  
  
-"The wards are still working, so they should be safe, Professor."  
  
Hermione didn't even wait for the man to comment, and had moved away to continue helping. The man, though, wasn't paying attention to her. His eyes were locked on the pilots, as if they were a puzzle he was trying to solve.  
  
-"You four have training."  
  
-"A bit."  
  
At least Maxwell's brain wasn't as damaged as it usually seemed.  
  
-"Then you will help me. Granger, keep them calm and don't let them leave this cart. Understood?"  
  
Hermione nodded, a tad reluctant, and the man all but charged down the hall.  
  
-"What do you need us to do, professor?"  
  
Leave it to Winner to be polite but demanding.  
  
-"As a matter of fact, Mister. . . "  
  
-"Winner, sir. Quatre Winner. These are Trowa Barton, Duo Maxwell and Wufei Chang."  
  
Wufei barely kept himself from growling. Why must everyone he ever met change his name? He was Chang Wufei, not Wufei Chang, damnit!  
  
-"Very well. . . Mister Winner. I have to ask of you that you beat me up."  
  
Quatre chocked.  
  
-"I beg your pardon?!"  
  
-"You will do as you are told, Winner. I have no time to explain."  
  
The blonde hesitated, looked at each of the pilots and, as Wufei expected, nodded. They could all see that there was something amiss and, if they wanted to find out what it was, they had to follow through with whatever was needed.  
  
Ten minutes later, Snape was running out into the woods (sporting a rather nice collection of injuries, if Wufei said so himself) and they were making their way back towards where they had left their fellow students.  
  
Three extra adults had arrived since they'd been gone, and they were introduced as Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, Deputy Headmistress Minerva McGonagall and a nurse, Madam Poppy Pomfrey. Transportation had been arranged for all the students left in the area, and for the injured Deatheaters (if there were any left).  
  
After seeing them to the carriages (horseless carriages, of all things) the adults had left, in search for the rest of the student body. There were quiet a few children missing, by what they understood, and the adults were afraid that they were being hunted through the woods.  
  
The ride had been a quiet affair, until they had reached the castle. Quatre's sisters had told him a lot about Hogwarts, and the blonde pilot had obviously been looking forward to his first view of the magnificent building. The four thus poked their heads out of the carriage's windows and twisted their necks up at the grand structure coming up ahead. In the darkness, and with every single light on, Hogwarts castle was truly breathtaking. The even managed to catch the vague impression of an inky black lake beneath the cliff on which the castle laid.  
  
Even after all that had happened since their arrival to England, they all were unable to keep small gasps (or squeal, whichever the case) of surprise at their view.  
  
Hermione, Harry and Ron were waiting for them at the bottom of the stairs leading into the castle, with the silver-eyed blonde standing a few yards away. They didn't seem to like each other, even if the blonde had been rather helpful back on the train.  
  
-"Let's go, guys. We'll guide you to the Great Hall."  
  
Hermione looked tired, and yet she still managed a tiny smile. Her nervousness shone through, though, as she couldn't keep back a "I hope everyone will be OK".  
  
The people walking in front of them to the massive doors ahead were talking quietly to each other, trying to piece together as much of the occurrences as they could. The doors opened as the first students reached them, and they all began making their absentminded way into the Hall. That is, until Harry, walking to Wufei's left, gave out a loud cry and clamped one of his hands to his forehead. Ron immediately turned concerned eyes to his friend, but the other boy didn't notice. His green eyes were locked on the table at the very end of the room, were a sitting figure dressed in black seemed to be holding court with those around him.  
  
-"Voldemort. . ."  
  
Wufei's eyes locked on the figure, attention immediately arrested. It seemed that the Dark Wizard everyone seemed to fear, Lord Voldemort, had finally achieved what he had been told was impossible.  
  
He had finally breached Hogwarts. 


	17. Chapter 16: Ginny Weasley

Chapter 16  
  
After escaping from the train and watching Cho Chang die in an attempt to warn them about the Deatheaters that were on their trail, Ginny had grabbed the hand of Neville Longbottom (the nearest person at the time) and had run for it.  
  
It was dark, the forest was muddy, and the rain was still falling hard, but she knew that if they stopped for even a second they would die. Their names were not going to be in the list of Voldemort's latest victims, not if she had any say in it.  
  
She had dragged Neville for quiet a while, all the time expecting to hear the sound of footsteps hot on their wake or of curses flying towards their backs, but none came. She was glad that they weren't being followed, but couldn't help but worry about the others. Ron, Harry, Hermione and the rest of her schoolmates. . . how many would she see again?  
  
The thought of her classmates made her realize how awfully quiet Neville was being. The pudgy older boy was a natural klutz, everyone knew that, and thus was never silent. . . not even when he was sleeping, if Ron was to be trusted.  
  
-"Neville?"  
  
No answer.  
  
-"Neville, are you OK?"  
  
She spun around to look at him. Her sudden stop caused him to crash into her, and sent them both sprawling onto the mud.  
  
-"Oh, jeez!! Ginny, I'm sorry!!"  
  
-"Don't worry about it. What's wrong?"  
  
-"Its just. . . doesn't it seem too easy? I mean, we are not that fast and we were closer to where the Deatheaters were coming from, and yet non of them came after us. . . I. . . its just. . ."  
  
-"Strange?"  
  
-"Yeah. . ."  
  
Ginny thought about, as they resumed their march. It was strange that no one had followed them. The Longbottom family was well known in the wizarding world, especially for their distaste towards the Dark arts, and the Weasleys had quiet a few enemies between the Deatheaters (especially the Malfoys). . . so it was rather surprising that Voldemort's supporters hadn't tried to hunt the both of them down.  
  
But why?? That was the main question. Why attack the express, especially when the Deatheaters own children were on it? She had clearly seen that awful Parkinson girl back at the train, and with her most of the mini- Deatheater brigade. Malfoy, though, had been nowhere to be seen.  
  
A horrible idea began taking shape on her mind: could it be possible that Voldemort had asked that kind of sacrifice from his followers? Could he be that cruel. . . that different from the boy she had met through his diary? Even if Tom Riddle had lied most of the times they had "chatted", there had always been a kindness lurking underneath his words. . . almost as if he didn't really want to hurt her, but found himself forced to due to the circumstances. It was a strange thing to think, she knew, and her family would probably go ballistic if she even tried to explain it to them, but still. . .  
  
Neville's suddenly pulling her behind a tree told her that her musings had been going on for too long, and that it was time to focus back on the present. The older boy motioned for her to keep quiet and to stay low, as he peeked around their cover.  
  
The bushes up ahead were shaking ever so slightly, but the way they were doing so belayed that it was not the wind that moved them. That fact was even more apparent when their leaves parted and gave way to a large group of creatures.  
  
Neville mouthed to her, with an expression that was a cross between fear and excitement.  
  
Indeed, the majestic creatures had just come pouring out into their line of view, but they were by no means alone.  
  
-"Hagrid!!"  
  
Without even thinking, both of them jumped out of their hiding place and ran towards the gamekeeper. . .  
  
The defensive and weapon laden reception they got was not exactly expected, even if it should have been so.  
  
Ginny felt like hitting herself. Of course they would be armed, of course the would be weary. She should have thought of that "before" jumping out on them.  
  
For a few seconds, no one moved. And then Hagrid lowered his crossbow and gave them a tight smile.  
  
Again, thought left her as she threw herself into Hagrid's arms and began to cry.  
  
Somehow, the next few minutes seemed to pass in a blur to Ginny. Feeling safe and protected had managed to sap what little energy adrenaline had given her, and left her in a quivering pile of nerves. Neville, though, had strong enough arms to hold her up and help her onto one of the centaurs, which took off at a fast pace towards Hogwarts.  
  
By the time her muddled brain managed to catch up with her, they were already at the castle's gates. She turned slightly and managed to catch Neville's worried expression.  
  
-"You went into shock."  
  
He obviously thought that answer enough to whatever questions she might have and, seeing his tired and drained expression, she decided to leave it at that. . . at least for a little while.  
  
-"I must leave you here, children, for I am needed elsewhere."  
  
The both thanked the centaur, as it retreated into the woods, and began their slow trek towards the great hall., both vaguely noting the presence of the schools horseless carriages at the bottom of the entrance stairs.  
  
Tired arms opened too-big doors and they both walked into what could only be described in one word. . .  
  
Pandemonium. 


	18. Chapter 17: Remus Lupin

Chapter 17  
  
The call had come a few minutes after they had arrived "home". Such a nice concept: home. The peace of it hadn't even lasted a week (typical, in marauder fashion). The reason, though, was not as jolly.  
  
Both his and Sirius' minds had flown to a single target: Harry. The child was bound to be thick on whatever mess Voldemort had cooked up.  
  
The animagus reacted faster, and Remus found himself in awe of the change that had come over his last remaining friend.  
  
Sirius had always been an extremely powerful wizard, a fact that had gotten him admitted into Auror training as soon as he had been released from Hogwarts. James had also followed that path, while Peter became a simple Ministry worker and Remus became a full time researcher under Dumbledore's command.  
  
Now, he could see the Auror taking command once again.  
  
Harry was in danger.  
  
That simple fact awoke the wolf he usually kept hidden deeply within himself.  
  
Harry was Prongs' child.  
  
Harry was pack.  
  
If he was injured, the wolf would claim blood that night. And Remus wasn't entirely sure that he could stop it, even if he tried to.  
  
Wands in hand and dark cloaks around their necks, they both made the sprint towards a nearby apparition point. No words were needed between them. They both knew what they had to do.  
  
Keep Harry safe. Do or die.  
  
Failure wasn't an option.  
  
They both arrived less than a hundred yards from where the Express had stopped.  
  
Flames were already claiming the first two carts, and Remus had a feeling that they were desperately late.  
  
The distinct lack of screams didn't help either.  
  
The closer they got, the stronger the dark magic residue and the smell of death and pain became.  
  
Small bodies were littered around the front of the train, pools of blood glittering in the golden light of the fire.  
  
Twisted and mangled limbs, horrified expressions. A cruel battle had just taken place.  
  
A very one-sided one.  
  
Deatheaters against first years.  
  
A poem he had read once came to mind, in a morbid sort of way, along with the full impact of the scene before him.  
  
"Sugar, blood  
  
Diamond and rose  
  
Irony, scorn  
  
And a body torn  
  
Pooled on the ground  
  
Taken his life  
  
Ripped out a heart  
  
No light to be found  
  
Itsy, bitsy  
  
Tiny soul  
  
Scream in the dark  
  
Wake up the ghoul  
  
Laughing, crying  
  
Irony and its child  
  
Leave nothing untainted  
  
And nowhere to hide"  
  
This children hadn't had a chance nor a place to hide.  
  
The unfairness of it all brought tears to his eyes. Memories of another scene of similar destruction threatened to choke him.  
  
Lily and James had died in the same way. Tortured and murdered by Voldemort, betrayed by Wormtail.  
  
And their beloved son was lost somewhere in the hell that now surrounded them.  
  
Sirius was grim and methodical as he searched for signs of life.  
  
A soft shake of the head told him just how fruitless that endeavor was.  
  
A sudden bout of screaming came from the back of the train, adult screaming, and they immediately took of that way. . . and crashed into, of all people, Severus Snape.  
  
The Potions Master looked like he had just been subjected to several rounds of Cruciatus.  
  
-"Lupin. Black."  
  
The fact that Severus almost sounded pleasant got raised eyebrows from both Marauders. Snape had been one of the staunchest supporters of Sirius being sent back to Azkaban, after all.  
  
-"Report."  
  
Sirius' cold voice snapped all of them back to the matter at hand.  
  
-"The front is. . . clear, after a fashion. By the sound of it, Albus and the others are taking care of the back. Amanda needs medical attention, so I left her under the care of some of the students. I'm still in capable condition."  
  
-"Remus?"  
  
-"He reeks of Cruciatus. Has had five, at least."  
  
Tenacious, indeed. Snape, though, seemed to be ignoring us.  
  
-"Quiet a bit of the children managed to make it into the woods, at least by what we could tell. Most of them, though, Amanda sent towards the back while we did what we could on the front. Thank God Albus didn't tale long to arrive."  
  
A sudden wave of air threw the potent stench of dead into Remus' nostrils.  
  
-"Are you sure Dumbledore is here?"  
  
That got him their attention.  
  
-"Lupin?"  
  
-"There's an assassin here."  
  
-"You sure?"  
  
-"Death, but no magic."  
  
Both Sirius and Severus let loose with a volley of expletives that would have managed to get the usually stoic McGonagall to blush.  
  
They all took defensive positions, even as the darker men kept up with their muttering.  
  
Remus' brain was going into overdrive. Facts kept streaming through his mind and aligning themselves in an effort to solve the puzzle.  
  
Assassin. Adults screaming.  
  
No magic. Death.  
  
Colonial children. A muggle war had just ended.  
  
No magic.  
  
Shit.  
  
-"Sirius, the children."  
  
Sharp glances.  
  
-"What about them?"  
  
-"Colonial children, you fools. Soldiers."  
  
Dawning comprehension.  
  
-"You think they'd take matters into their own hands?"  
  
-"There was no magic, Siri. Not at all."  
  
Severus growled something under his breath about swords and braided idiots, but marched decidedly towards the back of the train.  
  
Both Marauders simply raised eyebrows at that and followed.  
  
They had barely made it halfway there when they found themselves face to face with several Deatheaters. Some of them were coming out of the woods while the others jumped out of the train.  
  
No time for niceties. Two Reducto's and an Avada Kedavra took care of three of them, while the others fired Petrificus Totalus, Impedimenta, Imperio's and several Avada Kedavra's. Remus ducked to the left, barely managing to get out of the way. Severus had also ducked to the right, but Sirius had been caught in between them and had been hit by Imperius.  
  
Remus threw himself towards Sirius, just in time to push him out of the way of Cruciatus and to see Snape raise of the other side and fire an Incendio.  
  
Two Deatheaters went up in flames and provided enough distraction for Remus and Sirius to join Snape and attack. The three Deatheaters left seemed to come to a consensus and Appareted.  
  
This particular battle was over.  
  
-"That was much too easy."  
  
Nods all around and they picked up their pace. Something was very wrong.  
  
At the end of the train, they came upon the other teachers while in the middle of loading the students into the horseless carriages.  
  
Sirius all but Apparated to Dumbledore's side.  
  
-"Harry. . .?"  
  
-"Is fine, not even a scratch."  
  
Both Marauders sighed in relief, much to Snape's contempt.  
  
-"There is a small problem, though."  
  
Poppy materialized at their side, obviously intent on giving them a checkup. Behind her came Amanda Hooch, head heavily bandaged. All three of the men remained stubborn in their denials of injury, especially Snape (even if he was shaking as the proverbial leaf).  
  
-"What is it, Albus?"  
  
The Headmaster suddenly aged before their eyes.  
  
-"I believe we have bitten more than we can chew. More than even Voldemort would be able to chew."  
  
The three younger men must have given him the same "Well?" sort of expression, since Albus simply turned towards the train and climbed inside. The trio hesitated slightly and finally clambered after the Headmaster.  
  
The sudden stench of blood, pain and death that suddenly hit Remus' delicate senses sent him reeling into Severus. The other man barely managed to catch him, for which the werewolf was thankful.  
  
Dear God!!! He had expected it, had even felt it, but nothing in his admittedly wild imagination could prepare him for it.  
  
There was blood splattered everywhere! From top to bottom, the cart seemed to be painted the same nauseating shade of red. Bodies were piled messily along the corridor, most of them severely maimed.  
  
Whatever had happened, it had been vicious, fast and bloody.  
  
-"Which of the children was covered in blood?"  
  
Sirius, unsurprisingly, had full stock of the situation.  
  
-"Actually, none."  
  
They all gaped at the man.  
  
-"The students were clean, apart of those that were injured."  
  
-"It's impossible."  
  
-"Someone did this, alright. Most of the students that have been questioned agreed in their descriptions: small, dark cloak, swift as a shadow. No-one saw a face, not even a clue as to skin color. No use of magic, although obviously magical (after all, whomever it was could see the train). Just as obvious, this person was a professional. One of which we know nothing at all."  
  
-"He was fast, came in as a surprise. Had a knife and a sword, at least. Also used his hands, there are several snapped necks. Professional indeed. The slashes are methodical, precise. Probably a martial artist. A really talented one at that."  
  
Sirius turned haunted eyes from his exploration.  
  
-"Petit and slender. Probably a teenager. A very small teenager."  
  
Dumbledore nodded.  
  
-"That'll help. Thank you, Sirius. Your expertise comes in handy at a trying time."  
  
The animagus nodded, but his haunted expression remained.  
  
Remus looked at him in concern. Sirius was keeping something back and it was obviously hurting him. Snape, too, looked as if there was something stuck inside his throat that desperately needed to come out.  
  
As they exited, they caught sight of several centaurs that had arrived while they were conducting their inspection.  
  
Magical, proud creatures as they were, they condescended to let the Hogwarts' teachers to ride on their backs.  
  
The weary wizards and witches were left alone with their thoughts for the whole ride.  
  
Hogwarts was silent.  
  
Where they had expected to find frightened, noisy children in need of answers, they found empty, cold and silent corridors.  
  
-"Where is everyone?"  
  
-"Keep together. We don't know what may be awaiting us."  
  
As a tight, virtually soundless cluster, they made their way towards the Great Hall.  
  
From inside came the soft sound of people moving and, although puzzled, they all gave sighs of relief.  
  
The remaining children were safe and Voldemort had been stopped again, even if at a terrible prize.  
  
Gratefully, they pushed the great doors open and stepped into the Great Hall.  
  
And froze.  
  
The children were pushed tight together behind the Slytherin and Gryffindor tables. Their eyes locked on their professors in fright. Thick lines of Deatheaters kept them there.  
  
And at the teachers' table, center front between his Inner Circle, sat Voldemort.  
  
The doors closed with a resounding clang, trapping them all.  
  
Voldemort cackled in triumph and Dumbledore told them to stay in touch of one another.  
  
Sirius' hand in his own was warm, the animagus' eyes were locked on the small figure of his godson.  
  
Harry looked intact, but both men knew that when it came to this particular Potter, appearances could (and would) be deceiving.  
  
Voldemort began speaking about how almighty and victorious he was and then Remus felt it.  
  
The sudden condensation of power around Dumbledore.  
  
Voldemort and his Inner Circle obviously felt it too, because they all went for their wands.  
  
That proved to be useless, as a golden glow surrounded the baffled teachers and the Great Hall disappeared. 


	19. Chapter 18: Susan Bones

Chapter 18  
  
Susan Bones considered herself as an even-tempered witch with a sunny disposition. She wasn't prone to panicking, just as most of her housemates, and thus was one of Hufflepuff house's most prized students.  
  
It also meant that she was incredibly loyal and protective of her friends. Incredibly so.  
  
This last little fact explains why, seconds after entering the Great Hall, she found herself in a full-blown duel with a Deatheater.  
  
There is just one thing that will set of a Hufflepuff. . . and that is hurting the people they care for.  
  
Susan dived out of the way of a Cruciatus, and sent forth her strongest shield. It wouldn't hold for long, she knew, but it gave her just enough time to check on her best friend. Hannah Abbott hadn't even had a chance to understand what was happening before some dark curse hit her. The petite blonde was now lying in a puddle of blood, while her boyfriend (Justin Finch-Fletchley) tried by all means to patch her up.  
  
-"She OK??"  
  
-"I'm working on it!"  
  
-"Oh, damn!"  
  
The doors had just opened, and she could clearly see Harry Potter between the new arrivals. Several wands could be seen escaping their owners hands, as said owners went into a collision course towards the wall.  
  
Susan watched in surprise as Harry spun, sending some sort of charm at the wall, and then flung himself against their attackers.  
  
-"Boy's got more guts than brains!"  
  
She turned to see Justin at her side, Hannah hanging almost limply from his arms. She was conscious, though, which brought forth a sigh of relief.  
  
-"If someone can put forth a fight it's him, though."  
  
-"Indeed. You weren't doing so bad yourself. Professor Sprout's extra lessons are paying up."  
  
That brought back to memory the emergency meeting Hufflepuff house had had after the end of the Third Task of the Triwizard Tournament.  
  
[ Around her, all of her friends and housemates sat, waiting for their Head of House to arrive. The opening of the entrance shushed most of the whispered conversations taking place, as they all turned towards the woman that was to them a mother far from home.  
  
-"We don't have much time, dears, we must prepare now. You all know what has happened, we all mourn the death of one of our own. Lets not forget this warning, and thus be caught unawares. Time has come for Hufflepuff house to prove its worth, just as Cedric was trying to do. It I our turn to make a stand and show those that will try to oppress us that we will not take it lying down."  
  
Everyone had nodded, some understanding, others not, but all resolute.  
  
-"Good. Then let us begin. We are all hard workers, it is time to show just how much that alone can achieve."]  
  
Extra lessons and extra training had been just a few of the things they had done to prepare. And yet, now Susan knew that they still hadn't been ready. They hadn't been on time.  
  
Horror suddenly struck her, as she realized that her attention had wandered from the battle she was in, and she whipped around in time to see Justin collapse, an hysterical Hannah falling along with him.  
  
The Deatheater turned again towards her, and began sending out curses she had never heard of. Without thinking, she began dodging and shielding as best she could, but her power was fast decreasing. A look at Hannah told her that the blonde witch wouldn't be able to help her. She was too hurt and too distraught to be of any use in this sort of fight.  
  
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger fighting back to back, and doing one hell of a job of keeping the Deatheaters at bay. That failed, though, as the doors opened once more and Ginny Weasley made her entrance.  
  
The small redhead had just enough time to realize that there was a battle raging in the great hall, with Voldemort watching amusedly, before some stray curse hit her. Neville Longbottom, standing next to her, barely had time to catch her before she fell.  
  
Which left them both completely open for attack.  
  
Ron immediately left his best friends and went to his sisters rescue.  
  
Not two steps later, and the older redhead was lying on the ground, twitching under Cruciatus.  
  
Both Harry and Hermione sent curses at the Deatheater that was hurting their friend while they sprinted towards the redhead.  
  
Another curse came uncomfortably close to her person, and drew Susan out of her distraction.  
  
She sent out a Stupefy which was quickly repelled by the others shield, and raised her own magical barrier. She could see her magic crackling through it, telling her in no uncertain terms that it wouldn't sustain itself against a direct attack.  
  
The Deatheater raised his wand and prepared to let fly with his next attack. . .  
  
And collapsed as Hannah's voice rang out with a rather firm Stupefy.  
  
Susan raised grateful ayes towards her best friend, just in time to call out a warning as she saw the curse flying towards the blonde's back. It was answered, much to her distress, by Hannah's just as panicked cry.  
  
The last thing she heard, before darkness consumed her, was Hannah's first scream. 


	20. Chapter 19: Parvati Patil

Chapter 19  
  
Parvati Patil was a pretty girl. A pretty half of a whole. Some people said that between Padma and her, they would only make one perfect person.  
  
Sometime, while looking at the mirror of her conscience, she couldn't help but agree.  
  
Mirror images are always opposites, after all, and she had never met someone as opposite to her as her own flesh and blood.  
  
While Padma was the smart, cool and collected Ravenclaw, born and trimmed to fit the mold from which all their family had been cast, Parvati herself was the complete antithesis: more guts than brains, Gryffindor to her very core.  
  
Even though she didn't have her sister's brains, Parvati had been smart enough to realize what was happening as the attack on the train commenced, and had known that if she was ever going to stand a chance, she had to remain near those more experienced than herself.  
  
She had all but clung to Harry.  
  
Hell, even the Slytherins admitted that the small Gryffindor was powerful and resourceful. Gryffindors knew that no matter what, Harry wouldn't let them down.  
  
Thus, she had made it as close to him as she could get: into the compartment next to his.  
  
Her hope had been proved truth and she soon enough found herself on her way to Hogwarts, sporting not even a scratch.  
  
Entering the Great Hall, to find herself surrounded by a new battle, and one over which the red, snake-like eyes of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named feasted was not quiet what she had expected.  
  
Harry, though, hadn't given anyone time to react. A movement of his wand, and Parvati had found herself flung back into the corridor. The doors closed with a resounding clang, and there was only darkness around her.  
  
The two voices cursing from beside her had been unexpected, but welcomed.  
  
-"What on earth is going on in this place?!?!?!?!?!"  
  
-"Lumos."  
  
The light from her wand allowed her to see her companions: the four boys that had been with the Gryffindors in the train. Her Ravenclaw friends were going to die out of envy if they found out she had ended up alone with them. That is, if they managed to keep themselves alive back there in the Great Hall.  
  
With a shiver, she moved her eyes over the boys, checking them for injuries. Finding none, her mind began to wander, trying for dear life to figure out what to do. She felt like crying, after all this was Padma's department. She was only the pretty brave twit, not the brains of some sort of rescue operation.  
  
-"Calm down, we'll help them."  
  
The blonde with the kind eyes was standing beside her, a small comforting smile planted firmly on his face.  
  
-"What do ya say we just storm the place, Quat?? There has to be some sort of weapons around here, right??? So we grab 'em and go at it."  
  
The others looked at the braided boy with something akin to exasperation. Parvati thought about it.  
  
Weapons.  
  
Where can you find weapons in Hogwarts?  
  
And why the bloody hell are they looking for weapons when she can clearly see that they have perfectly working wands in their pockets?!?!?!  
  
She gave them her best "Duh!!" look and pointed to their wands.  
  
-"You already HAVE weapons!"  
  
The boys looked at their wands, and then at her.  
  
-"Well. . . if you would bloody tell us HOW to use them!!!"  
  
-"You don't know ANY magic?!?!"  
  
The "Duh!!" look was now fixed firmly on three of their faces. The fourth, a tall boy with long bangs, simply looked at her with his only visible green eye.  
  
-"Well. . . damn."  
  
-"Indeed, Onna."  
  
She blinked in incomprehension, but decided not to comment. Ok, back to the original problem: where do you get weapons in Hogwarts?? It's not as if she could send them after the Deatheaters with their bare hands, right?? Hell, she wouldn't even send Malfoy out like that, and she hated the git.  
  
A glint of metal and she had her solution.  
  
"Do you guys know how to use a sword?"  
  
The raised eyebrows that got her, along with the decidedly cocky smirks had been her answer. The braided boy, though, sent a sheepish look towards his chinese companion, almost as if expecting him to suddenly explode. The chinese returned the look with a miffed one of his own. The other two just smiled.  
  
***************************************************************  
  
This had seemed like such a great idea at the time, but now, as she ran for her life, she was sure as hell never going to open her mouth to give ideas again.  
  
Duo ran by her side, her hand firmly within the grasp of his only working hand. She had told him that hitting that thing was a baaaad idea, but had he listened?? Noooo. Thus the bruised, if not broken, hand.  
  
The darkness around them was all but complete and, worst of all, that thing was gaining on them. Hell, she could already feel the slight wind that sword caused as it tried by all means to chop off her head.  
  
She spun said head, just in time to see its armor glint as its arms raised again in preparation of the delivery of another blow.  
  
-"Duck!!!"  
  
Without thinking, she obeyed. Form behind her came the loud clang of a shoe against metal, and Trowa suddenly joined the race. Hanging from his hand came Quatre.  
  
-"Where's Wu?"  
  
-"We. . . lost. . . him. . .!"  
  
-"A little out of breath, Q?"  
  
The blonde didn't even deign that with an answer, more interested in kipping his breath.  
  
Ok, so her plans really sucked. It had seemed so easy!! Walk up to any of the suits of armor that were strewn all over the castle and take its sword. How hard could it be, right??  
  
Well, as it turned out. . . REALLY hard.  
  
For one, the whole castle seemed to be changing. The once cheery corridors and the moving staircases were no more. Darkness seemed to have crawled into Hogwarts' very core, and it had quiet obviously corrupted it. The paintings were now grotesque views of a twisted world and the suits of armor were not as nice as they had once been.  
  
THAT was probably the understatement of the year.  
  
The boys, as it turned out, knew quiet a bit of martial arts. Coupled with the magic they were sure to learn, it would make them formidable opponents. But as things stood now, weapon-less and magic-less, she was being realistic enough to see that they would stand no chance should they return to the Great Hall.  
  
Three more blows in quick succession and an odd glint appeared into Duo's eyes.  
  
-"Ok, I'm sick of this. Tro, catch!"  
  
Parvati didn't even get the chance to wonder what he planed to throw before she found herself propelled towards the other boys. Her eyes, though, were still locked on Duo, and thus she saw clearly how he turned towards the armor and fell into a fighting stance.  
  
He avoided to blows in quick succession and flung himself forward to retaliate. The steel toes of his boot made a loud clang as they crashed against the armor, bouncing off of it without leaving a single scratch.  
  
The move, though, left him unbalanced and vulnerable to the sword that was now directed at his chest.  
  
Duo's seemingly frail arm came up, in a vain attempt at deflecting what was sure to be a mortal blow and Parvati couldn't help but scream in horror at the sight. . .  
  
And the sighed in relief as a huge sword appeared between flesh and metal, blocking the blow.  
  
The chinese guy, Wufei if she was correct, seemed to have, somehow, gotten his hands on a sword as long as he was tall. She recognized the patterns engraved on it to be Celtic, but couldn't for the life of her remember what that kind of sword was called.  
  
Duo moved away from the new combatants and began a quick check of his injuries. Once satisfied, he stepped up to the perimeter of the fight, waiting for a chance to interfere.  
  
The dark-haired boy, meanwhile, had been taking swings at the armor, but it was easy to see that the incredible weight of the sword was slowing him down. . . making him look even clumsy. And leaving him open more that protecting him.  
  
Parvati could have kicked herself as she remembered that she had a wand and that she could have used magic a long while ago and stopped this idiocy. Rising her wand, just as the armor went to deliver its next blow she threw an Impedimenta at it.  
  
The armor froze for a second. . . Wufei moved out of its way. . . Duo moved towards the things back to deliver a new blow. . .  
  
And out of nowhere several spells hit the teens.  
  
Parvati found herself on her knees, barely clinging to consciousness. Deatheaters appeared around several nearby corners and conjured ropes to tie them up. The armor looked very smug, if such a thing could even manage to convey that sort of emotion, let alone feel it.  
  
Mobilicorpus was used on each of them, and she felt like crying as she realized they were being dragged back towards the Great Hall, defenseless as newborn kittens.  
  
What little hope they had had of helping the others was gone. . . for now.  
  
She watched as the hug doors gave them access and swore to herself that she would keep on trying, hoping. They were all now in the shoes of a certain green-eyed someone. Hell, for the first time she understood what must have happened on the day Diggory died, and also, for the first time, she realized that the hat was right.  
  
Gryffindors never give up.  
  
They never surrender. 


	21. Chapter 20: Blaise Zabini

Chapter 20  
  
One of the first things any child born into a dark family learns is of their own mortality.  
  
Blaise himself had known he would die one day, even before the concepts of pride, pureblood and family honor had sunk in. And well before mother, father and love.  
  
The last one, in particular, was still tricky and in sore need of hands-on experience.  
  
He had expected to die, but never in his wildest dreams had he expected to do so before he even left Hogwarts. Before he even got to learn what life was all about.  
  
That idea was now all too real.  
  
He could see his own parents from where he was standing. Both were dressed in their finest Deatheater robes and were looking quiet smug.  
  
Just this morning, and as he left for the station, his mother had given him a goodbye kiss and his father had given him the usual speech about making them proud.  
  
Hours later, and they (along with their "friends") had tried to kill him.  
  
The world had suddenly tilted on its axis and he had somehow landed on Perfect Potter's usual shoes.  
  
Lets just say, loath as he was to admit it, that he was beginning to respect the Gryffindor.  
  
The sudden opening of door distracted him from his thoughts, just in time to see the priceless expressions of his rather flabbergasted professors. He almost laughed, as he considered what their faces would have looked like, had they walked in on the battle that had just ended. Without a doubt, they would have been proud. Their students had put out one hell of a fight.  
  
It hadn't been enough, though, and now many of them were laying unconscious under the care of their housemates.  
  
Still, the professors were mightily shocked.  
  
It was quiet obvious that not everyone could recognize a distraction when one popped up to bite them on the bum.  
  
Voldemort stood up and began making a rather morbid welcoming speech (in other words: he gloated).  
  
Frightened whimpers all around him distracted Blaise from the Dark Lord's rather boring words. After all, he had spent most of the last five years in the same dormitory as Draco Malfoy. He had heard enough gloating to last him a lifetime.  
  
He looked around himself at the other boys, and found that more than half of them were about to (or already had) wet themselves in fear. From the rest (mostly Gryffindors and Slytherins, although there was the odd Ravenclaw and absolutely no Hufflepuffs), most were scared stiff.  
  
Potter and some of those around him were oddly calm.  
  
Across the hall, he could see that a similar phenomenon was occurring within the ranks of the girls, their calm center being Morag MacDougal and Potter's pet mudblood.  
  
The sudden golden glow that enveloped the teachers took him by surprise.  
  
As the light got to the point of being unbearable, he closed his eyes. By the time he managed to open them again, there was no trace of the teachers.  
  
Correction.  
  
Of most of the teachers.  
  
Snape was standing there, as cool and smug as you please, looking for all the world as if Christmas had come early.  
  
The Potions Master strode quickly towards his Lord, bowed deeply and kissed the hem of Voldemort's robes.  
  
The Dark Lord seemed rather miffed by the teachers' escape, but managed a maniacal sort of smirk for the Deatheater that had opened Hogwarts' doors for him.  
  
Snape stood, and took his place at Voldemort's left, Lucius Malfoy calmly sitting at the Dark Lord's right.  
  
The Deatheaters cheered and Malfoy, of all things, fainted.  
  
Noise stopped at this, as Nott (a certified mediwizard) hurried to the blonde's side.  
  
The puddle of blood that was noticeably growing beneath Malfoy's chair was a dead giveaway as to why the man was unconscious.  
  
From the corner of his eye, Blaise caught sight of Draco struggling against Potter and those around them in a vain attempt to reach his father. Whatever they told him seemed to calm the younger blonde, and he reluctantly stayed put.  
  
The Deatheaters hurried Malfoy senior out of the hall, leaving behind an unamused Dark Lord.  
  
The man's attention was once again directed to the students.  
  
-"As it seems you all like sortings so much, I've decided to keep up this remarkable tradition."  
  
At a small signal, a Deatheater appeared with the Sorting Hat and a stool.  
  
-"There is, though, a small difference on this occasion. The Hat has only three options: die, slave and live. Each of you will be "sorted". Slaves will be handed over to the free live students, if claimed by them. Let us begin."  
  
The Deatheater that had brought in the Hat now had a thick roll of parchment in his hands. The man' mouth opened to call the first name and, in perfect synchrony, the doors opened once more.  
  
Only two Deatheaters, Crabbe and Goyle seniors, had now returned from the group that had left to take care of Malfoy. Between them, there was a slender, petit boy, with shoulder-length brown hair, pale skin and dark eyes.  
  
A soft distressed sound coming from behind him drew Blaise's attention, and he turned to an oddly familiar scene: several boys holding back another. There were several differences though, as this boy was a long-haired brunet, with angry violet eyes and a Weasley-red face. Blaise couldn't keep back a chuckle as another boy stuffed the first one's braid into its owner's mouth.  
  
When he turned back to look at the Deatheaters, he found both men kneeling before their Lord.  
  
-"My Lord, we found him in the infirmary."  
  
Voldemort nodded at them and motioned for them to leave the boy there.  
  
-"And what, may I ask, is your name boy?"  
  
There was quiet a bit of scorn and amusement in the man's voice. The boy, though, simply looked back at Voldemort, obviously not knowing the danger he was in.  
  
Voldemort was not happy with his silence. He raise his wand as if to curse the boy, when the other raised a hand in a "wait" motion.  
  
The Dark Lord blinked and, surprisingly, lowered his arm.  
  
The boy pointed at his own throat and shook his head.  
  
Understanding dawned.  
  
Several Deatheaters (particularly the Inner Circle) huffed as they realized there would be no cursing. After all, what's the point in doing so, when the victim can't even scream?  
  
The students, though, sighed in relief.  
  
And Voldemort's eyes turned towards Mister Braid-man and arched an eyebrow at him, the question obvious.  
  
After a slight hesitation, the taller boy moved forward and stood beside the darker brunet.  
  
-"My name is Duo Maxwell, and this here is Heero Yuy."  
  
Hero?? What sort of parents had that kid got? Eccentrics, for sure.  
  
An arched eyebrow in the direction of the Deatheater that had the list sent the man scurrying to find both names.  
  
-"They. . . they are not here, my Lord. Must be some of those colonial children Snape was talking about."  
  
Voldemort looked at the man in exasperation.  
  
-"Then add them to the list and sort them, you fool."  
  
The Dark Lord waited until the man nodded in comprehension before he let the curse fly.  
  
Cruciatus was never pleasant, even when you were only a watcher.  
  
He wondered if any of them would survive the month, let alone the school year, without feeling its effects.  
  
Duo Maxwell had gone pale as he watched the Deatheater writhe under the effect of the pain, but Heero Yuy remained oddly calm. It was almost as if he didn't see what was happening right before his eyes.  
  
By the time the curse was lifted, the Deatheater looked almost lifeless, barely twitching where he lay on the ground.  
  
-"Let this be a warning for all those that dare displease me."  
  
Most of the students were quacking on their shoes at the prospect of the detentions they were sure to get in the future and what might happen during them. That is, if they were even alive. . . or allowed to take classes, at that.  
  
-"Now, let us begin with the sorting."  
  
***************************************************************  
  
This reviews are for all chapters up to the 19th. As per ff.net's new policy, I'm adding this at the bottom of this chapter (as I'm sure you can see). To make this easier, I will post my answers to your reviews every five chapters or so. They will remain in the same format as before.  
  
16-12-03  
  
An hour and 31 minutes late. Well, damn. Anyway, these are the answers to the new reviews.  
  
rikasakuraduo-heerosyliaspike.- Wow, long name  
you've got there. Hmm, you ask, you get. ^_^  
  
Mikito.- Glad you liked it. You get to find a  
little bit more!  
  
Shinimegami-Rin.- Yeah, I did, didn't I? I'm awfully sorry  
about that. Vacations have started now, though, so  
hopefully I'll be able to write more.  
  
Katie.- I'm glad you like. Working with so many different characters  
is a little hard, specially as many of them have been left so in the  
dark that they practically don't have a personality. I'm trying to  
fix it, while keeping the characters that we do know IN character.  
Comments like yours really help me when I'm trying to portray them.  
Thanks! ^_^  
  
CatC10.- Hopefully, the timeline should fix itself soon. New  
chapter's up!  
  
12-12-03  
  
Kill me now. Damn it's been more than a month already!! OK, now that's out of the way, you'll be pleased to know that I already have 3 chapters ready for posting. This one now is the first. Unless something unexpected happens, the next one should be out Sunday, Monday at the latest. Now you get my answers to your reviews, and then you can verbally filet me, ok??  
  
Shinimegami_Rin.- I'm glad you like it! You get to see Duo,  
Quatre, Trowa and Wufei a bit on this chapter!! As for  
their meeting with Heero. . . that will confuse people, I  
can already promise you that!!  
  
Lightning Rain.- Oh, I wasn't upset, please don't worry about  
it. I found it curious, just that. I guess it's interesting,  
what you learn about people by what they write. Anyway,  
thanks for reviewing!!  
  
ShideDaion Chrystal.- I've been writing!!! I just  
haven't had the chance to actually post what I've  
written!!!  
  
Omi721.- Got me. The reason for this is simple (and quiet stupid,  
on my part): most of the chapters for this fic have been written as  
they go. It follows a plan, but it tends to change as new ideas  
come to my mind. This, unfortunately, mean there are a lot of  
changes from the original version of what I wanted to say, to  
accommodate the new. I'm sorry to say that this sometimes causes  
small mistakes, and though I usually manage to catch most, this was  
one. There is a reason for the disappearance of the sword, it is  
written and was going to be posted, but a small change on my part  
left it out. It will still be there, but it appears during a  
flashback in one of the coming chapters (specifically, Hermione's).  
I apologize for it, and will try to avoid any other mistakes of  
this sort. If you find any more, I'd be really thankful if you (or  
anyone else) could tell me about so that I can see what I can do  
about fixing it. Thanks!!!!  
  
Dreamwaver.- The explanation for your doubts is in this new  
chapter. Hopefully, it will clear all of them, but if it  
doesn't, ask away!!  
  
Kerwin Inuyasha.- Is this one long enough for your tastes??  
^_^ You'll see Heero soon, don't worry!!  
  
Anime Redneck.- Not ALL of them, there are just too many of  
them. Hell, with the introduction of kids from the colonies,  
it will make it even harder. I will use quiet a bit of them  
(I'm up to 21 characters, and I already have a couple of new  
one in mind --hopefully, they will not come out as some sort  
of bizarre mary sue's, and they are definitely not self-  
insertion-- and I still have a few more in mind, but that  
will be just about it). I think they are more than enough,  
don't you?  
  
Mikito.- Sigh, I know it's slow. But some thing need to be  
explained. I'm trying to get it to pick up a bit, but. . . I promise  
I'll try, ok??  
  
03-11-03  
  
I haven't been able to answer reviews until now, so we have more than usual. Next chapter is almost finished, so expect it to be posted before Friday!!!  
  
Airhead8324: I'm glad you like it. Changing point of views can  
be a little confusing (even for me, and I'm the one that's  
writing the story), which is the reason that instead of chapter  
names, I set the name of the character whose point of view it  
will be on. I don't mind sarcasm or dryness, I tend to speak  
(and sometimes, write) that way.  
  
Sarah: Don't worry. Hopefully, you won't wait long.  
  
Shinimegami_Rin: I'll update soon, don't worry!  
  
Sakiku: Well, I did stop at a rather inconvenient time, didn't I?  
As I've said before, I love cliffhangers!! So you'll find them a  
lot. If I answered your other questions, I'm afraid it would give  
out to much of what is to come.  
  
Sarah: I'm afraid not ASAP, but soon.  
  
Dreamweaver: You've got the arrival order just right. The  
happenings of the Great Hall will be explained soon, don't  
worry. As for the building, well. . . the teachers only saw a  
tiny part of it, didn't they? Hogwarts IS a magical building.  
. . it might surprise us all.  
  
Shinimegami_Rin: You'll see!  
  
kerwin: More suspense to come, I can assure you that!!  
  
Katie: As I said before, there'll be an update soon.  
  
Queen of Vegetasei: If I might be honest, I'm just about  
to go into shock at getting so many reviews. The most  
I've gotten before has been 11 to a 12 chapter story, so.  
. . Anyway, your questions about the G-boys will be  
answered within the next few chapters. They did have a  
reason, trust me on that.  
  
Niira Yuy: ^_^ Thanks!!  
  
Lightning Rain: I think yours is the first actual threat I've  
gotten for this story. The next chapter is almost finished,  
and I already have 3 more chapters in paper. I don't have a  
beta, so I write them that way, and check them as I type them  
up. It makes the process a little slower, but (thankfully)  
helps keep the mistakes to a minimum.  
  
AzalynAngel: Glad you liked it!!  
  
19-10-03  
  
I'm so sorry!!!! I'm not even gonna try to justify my lateness (it'd probably give someone a migraine or a nightmare) so I'm just going to go directly to the part where I beg: forgive me?! I know, it's been more than a month and I know that this chapter is tiny. . . Oh, god. . . I'm truly pathetical, am I not?  
  
I solemnly swear not to take this long to post again.  
  
On a happier note (and if you have forgiven me enough to read up to this point), most of the key players in this story have arrived at Hogwarts, which means (drum roll, please) that the story should pick up on the speed department. It will still lean towards the point-of-view style, but will have more people and more things happening.  
  
Ok, that said. . . on to the reviews!  
  
Honor: I'm, still updating, as you can see. It's just taken me a  
LOOOOOONG time to do so.  
  
kurokioku: Yep, it has been left just there. I've got a thing for  
cliffhangers. Hmmm, as for the couples. . . well, you'll just have  
to see, right? Some people are gonna hate me by the time this is  
over, but please bear with me. I now what I'm doing (I think  
o_O!):  
  
kerwin: lets just say things are gonna be. . . sticky, comes to mind, shall we?  
  
Airhead8324: Hmm, I guess it can be a little bit confusing,  
that's why instead of chapter names I'm setting the character  
whose point of view the chapter will be on. Please be patient,  
future chapters should be easier to follow.  
  
11-09-03  
  
As you guys can see. . . Three chapters in three days!! That has gotta be a record for me. Today I got a phone call from school, telling me that classes are out until next notice. With the W.T.O. meetings going on around here and all that people protesting. . . Well, lets just say that they dimmed it unsafe. So I get more time to write, and thus. . . a new chapter!!  
  
razielle: I'm glad you like it. As I said in my answer to Hikaru's  
review, I do tend to get characters I like into lots of trouble. . .  
and that means I usually write about them quiet a bit. I'm trying to  
keep it fair to all the characters so I promise the story won't be  
completely Heero-centric, although he will appear quiet a bit.  
  
Airhead8324: I believe I made a little omission, in the note at  
the beginning of the story: you see, since I'm paying for  
school, I really don't have that much spare money and thus I  
wasn't able to buy OotP until recently. When I began writing  
this story, I knew nothing of what was going to happen on the  
cannon story, (I guess this makes this story an AU of OotP,  
doesn't it?) and thus made up my own fifth year. Which means  
Sirius isn't death, at least not here. As of now, I'm  
considering whether or not to write the story of what happened  
in my fifth year, or to include it as a flashback of some sort  
within this story. I hope either way not to disappoint anyone.  
  
Usa-chan Yuy: I'm a freshman myself. And although it hasn't  
been too hard a year, teachers do tend to get exited while  
giving out homework assignments, don't they? Anyway, as I said  
above I'm getting a little time off, which means more sand,  
more water and more writing time, so (hopefully) I'll be able  
to get a few more chapters up.  
  
RemRene: As you can see, I've updated again. Although I usually  
write in a more conventional way (one or two characters as the  
focus of the story), I felt that that style would limit what I  
wanted to do with this story (trust me, I tried writing it that  
way, and I failed miserably). I like it this way, and I really am  
glad that people do like it as well.  
  
10-09-03  
  
This one is a special treat, since I was somewhat inspired, but (as I've said before) it will usually take me longer to update. I know it seems to backtrack a bit, but this chapter IS needed, in order for you guys to understand a few things that have happened and that will happen in the future (like why Lucius seemed to put such little effort in forcing Draco to take the mark. . . well, now you know).  
  
Dreamweaver: I agree with you on the fact that magic can't fix  
everything, no matter how much we want it to. It takes courage,  
strength, skill, resourcefulness and a quick mind to get out of  
a sticky situation. Magic, in any form, is an enhancement and a  
bonus. . . and yet it makes for such interesting possibilities.  
. .  
  
Usa-chan Yuy: Don't worry about the rambling (! I find it quiet  
funny!  
  
Hikaru: Wish granted. I did leave Heero in quiet the sticky  
situation, didn't I? Hmm, I do seem to do that to characters I like.  
. .  
  
09-09-03  
  
Again, I apologize for the long wait. College has been taking most of my time, though, so it gets a little hard to update regularly. Please, bear with me. Better late that never, right? Anyway, as you can see, I have moved this story from the Harry Potter section to the Gundam Wing one. My sister and her baseball bat can be mightily convincing. I'll try to post at least another chapter this week, but remember: patience is a virtue!  
  
kerwin inuyasha: Don't worry! I swear I'm not giving up on  
it, not by a long shot. I even have it planned out all the  
way to a sequel. . . now I just have to get around to  
writing it all down. This new chapter is my longest (in this  
story). Hopefully it will make up a little for the long  
wait.  
  
16-08-03  
  
Hi! I'm back. Sorry for the wait, school just came in, so I'm probably going to be posting a little slower, but I'll try not to. Please, bear with me! On to the reviews:  
  
Kolinshar Jackie-chan Benito: Yeah, I do realize  
there are very few GW/HP crossover fanfics, but  
if you really like them, there are two that I  
particularly like: Stormy1x2's "Parallel" and  
"Hogwarts" (I do believe it's written by Tenshi-  
chan, but I might be mistaken). And don't worry,  
I'll post as soon as I can.  
  
Usa-chan Yuy: Don't worry, Duo and Heero will eventually get  
together. . . there's just a few bumps in the road that they  
have to sort.  
  
kerwin inuyasha: Hmmm. . . I guess you might be right, but.  
. . Well, don't get me wrong, I LOVE reviews but this story  
is more like my pet project. I will keep on posting it,  
whether I get just one review or a hundred. I really want to  
finish it, that's why I kept on posting even when there were  
no reviews.  
  
starsong: Yes, Heero does retain his memories. . . even if he  
probably would be happier if he could forget.  
  
Ari: It is sad that it happens, isn't it? You'll get an explanation of  
WHY it happened soon, perhaps then it will make more sense to all who  
are reading the story.  
  
Herald-Mage Brianna: Don't worry, I will continue!!  
  
21-07-03  
  
Stormy2x1: I guess it is a little bit hard to see it happening,  
especially to someone as strong as Heero is portrayed to be like  
during the series. But (at least from my point of view) it always  
seemed to be more like a façade he kept in order to complete his  
mission. I mean, think about it: if he were really that ruthless,  
would Duo and Relena still be alive? Would Quatre? I guess, what  
I'm trying to say is that not all what we saw was necessarily  
truth. I'm just trying to see if I can portray all of the pilots  
the way they would be if they had time to leave the effects of the  
war behind, even if some did it more dramatically than the others.  
Just give me a chance, ok? 


	22. Chapter 21: Pansy Parkinson

Chapter 21  
  
As the fog surrounding her senses began to clear, Pansy suddenly became aware of the unnatural quiet that permeated the room. It took her only one look to recognize Hogwarts' Great Hall, and even less to realize just exactly WHO was sitting there before them all. . . and just exactly what was being said.  
  
Tears came to her eyes as she realized what would soon take place in the castle, in the only place where she had ever felt truly safe. . . it was broken now. The comfort, the safety, the beautifully fragile bubble of a world the school and its teachers had managed to create for the children that lived within this halls was gone, forever unattainable.  
  
Her eyes roamed over all the faces that filled the safe heaven of her childhood. . . some were obvious taints to its purity, while others embodied its innocence. Powerful Deatheaters and their Master, against frightened children. . .  
  
Prisoners.  
  
That was what they had become.  
  
Many were already gone, murdered in the massacre that had been committed within the Express. . . and, if Voldemort was to be believed, plenty would soon follow.  
  
She couldn't help but consider those about to die lucky. A few moments of suffering, and then they would finally attain eternal peace. She, herself, wasn't as foolish as to believe that death would bring her such a fate. Eternal damnation was more likely to become her ending, but not yet.  
  
Wide eyed, she watched as a knew Deatheater took the place of his fallen predecessor and began calling for the students to face their fate.  
  
The first up, before the students terrified eyes, was Abigail Bocklehurst. Mandy, standing a few feet away from Pansy, let out a rather pathetic whimper of fear at the sight of her cousin moving to take her place underneath a rather disgruntled hat. The Ravenclaw held her head high as it was placed on her head, and kept her cool, somehow, at its proclamation of DIE!!  
  
Voldemort, sitting right before her, seemed rather amused at the girls unmovable expression. Blond curls loose down to her waist and beautiful blue eyes cold, the girl stood and stared the Dark Lord straight in the eye.  
  
-"I'm glad to die, if it will keep me away from your madness. You are no Lord. . . only a murderer. . . barely deserving of our pity."  
  
The Deatheaters, and everyone within the Hall, simply stared at the daring girl. There was no fear on her face, only contempt.  
  
The Dark Lord didn't even seem angry, or even insulted. He was. . . well, it could definitely be considered a smile, as he gazed at the impertinent Ravenclaw seventh year.  
  
-"Macnair, wouldn't it be, lets say, appropriate to show them all what awaits them, should they willingly choose the fate this. . . girl, has chosen?"  
  
The man approached hurriedly from somewhere in the left side of the room, and bowed before the monster ensconced in its throne.  
  
-"I believe, my Lord, that that is a wonderful idea. May I suggest, by your leave, a. . . method, to teach them such a lesson?"  
  
Voldemort's now decidedly amused expression was easy to see.  
  
-"I'll leave the entertainment in your. . . capable hands."  
  
The man threw himself at his Lord's feet and covered the hem of his robes in kisses.  
  
-"It shall be done as you command me, my Lord."  
  
Voldemort barely had time to dismiss the guy before he was sprinting for the door, obviously in search of whatever he would need to entertain the monster.  
  
Hushed whispers traveled through the hall, while two of the Deatheaters moved to restrain Abby. The girl had always been kind to the Slytherins, helping them with their homework or whatever messes they had managed to get themselves in. Pansy sincerely liked her, and felt shivers of fear wracking her spine. It surprised her a bit to realize that the fear was for the girl she considered her friend, instead of at the possibility of what would soon become her own fate.  
  
The sudden shaking of the ground alerted them all that something was wrong. The fact that it was approaching and increasing in its intensity left no doubt that it was most probably Macnair returning with whatever toy he had gone to fetch.  
  
Soon enough, the great doors were thrown open, and everyone in the room (except Voldemort) had to take a step back in horror at the sight of the creature that followed the Deatheater.  
  
A bull like creature, at least 30 feet high and seemingly made out of some sort of shadowy substance, marched into the room. It looked relatively harmless, if you didn't pay attention to the incredible aura of dark magic that permeated it and to the quiet obvious golden rings that encircled its neck.  
  
No creature that she knew of had that sort of darkness.  
  
Still, the suddenly maniacal grin that was spreading through the faces of the Dark Lord and the Deatheaters did nothing to clam her. She had always known, as far as she could remember, what her parents and their chums had been up to during the war. It had never been a mystery, or even a secret, and know she could see it happening. She could see her own parents preparing to enjoy themselves. . . and it would be at her and her friends expense.  
  
Voldemort finally raised from his throne, and came almost face to face with the creature. Monster facing monster.  
  
-"Do you approve, my Lord?"  
  
Macnair was back at the monster's feet, cowering like the spineless fool that he was. The snake man didn't even deign that with an answer. Instead, he simply returned to his throne, stippled his fingers, and gave his servant a raised eyebrow as an answer.  
  
Macnair grinned like the loon he was, and motioned for those holding Abby in place to let her go. The thin girl was staring at the creature without understanding and it took her a second to realize what the man expected from her. With cautious steps, she approached the huge beast, until she stood before its gigantic mass.  
  
A soft whisper coming from a pair of Deatheaters standing close by chilled the very blood within Pansy's veins. Of all the cruel things in the world. . . a magic eater? They would use that. . . thing, on a child and before the eyes of children, incredibly young children at that??  
  
Given the decidedly clueless expressions that most of those within the hall sported, she could easily tell that both the Care of Magical Creatures and the Defense Against the Dark Arts curriculums were in sore need of an update. Not even that know-it-all Granger seemed to realize what was about to happen. Morag, standing beside the aforementioned mudblood, was sporting the same openmouthed Oh-my-god!!! Kind of look that Pansy was sure was on her own face.  
  
If that thing got lose within this particular castle. . . the disaster would be incredible.  
  
God, how she wished those Deatheaters hadn't taken her wand. She hadn't exactly seen them do it, but she could find no other explanation. . . especially after she noticed the fact that all the other kids were as wand-less as she herself was. Besides, no Gryffindor that pried him or herself of being so would be able to keep themselves back when it came to doing idiotically heroic stuff such as throwing curses left and right while surrounded by Deatheaters. Yeah, right. . . tickling curses and boils against the Unforgivables. That would work just fine. . . not.  
  
She could all but perceive the reeking stench of fear as it spread through all those around her, as Macnair approached the creature and unsnapped the rings from its neck. The darkness the beast exuded suddenly increased tenfold, its almost palpable presence sending the younger children into tears.  
  
Before their eyes, the creature suddenly morphed into a vaguely humanoid shape, although it was still 30 feet tall. The monsters bullish face twisted into a maniacal expression, as it advanced towards the incredibly frail looking girl that was now staring at it with bulging and fear filled eyes.  
  
Its immense hand gripped her hair, and it used said leverage to twist her head and bare her neck. Sharp teeth punctured into the tender flesh ripping both it and a scream from the girl in its hold.  
  
Pansy threw herself towards a small group of first year girls not to far away, and forced them to cover their eyes. This was something none of them had nor needed to see.  
  
Several other older kids had gotten the same idea, and were taking care of all the first and second year children they could find. Some had even managed to get several third years to cover their eyes.  
  
Another scream, and Pansy whirled around just in time to watch the monster impale her friend on the hugest erection she had seen in her life. Blood poured as the thing kept feeding from the girls neck, its body fucking her viciously at the same time.  
  
Screams and whimpers exploded all around the hall, but none could drown the pained sounds coming from the small, tortured figure. Claws ripped both cloth and flesh, blood splattered everywhere. A sudden glow enveloped both figures, a soft baby-blue light that faded just as soon as it had appeared.  
  
Pansy closed her own eyes, just as that. . . thing screamed its completition for all to hear. The thumps that followed, one softer than the other, told her that both the creature and what was left of its victim had fallen to the ground.  
  
She opened her eyes again, to the sight of Macnair snapping the rings back around the monsters neck. It immediately reverted back to its initial bull- like shape, much to Pansy's relief. A Deatheater approached the mangled body lying in a puddle of blood, and made it and the blood vanish. For a second, it was as if her friend had never existed. . . kind of like a footstep in the sand that vanishes upon the wake of a wave. But no matter what, the disappearance of that footstep hurt. . . it always would.  
  
The even more horrifying fact the Voldemort was laughing, cackling in pleasure at what they had just witnessed, made it even worse.  
  
-"Let your toy rest, Macnair. As entertaining as it is. . . it should be saved for. . . special occasions."  
  
-"As your wish, my Lord."  
  
The man even had the gal to look disappointed!! In a fit of fury, Pansy left the first years into another girl's care, and marched herself to stand side to side with Morag and Granger. She could feel the anger feeding her magic, could almost see her aura come to life around her.  
  
The sorting was restarted, only this time, those sentenced to death were marched towards Voldemort's left, and those meant for life were marched to the right. Slaves were forced to stand in the middle of the hall, just where Abby's body had fallen, awaiting for someone to claim them.  
  
It was going on in earnest, the Deatheaters obviously in a hurry to delight themselves with whatever atrocities their Lord was going to allow them to commit upon the poor, defenseless souls that were now cowering to the snake man's left.  
  
Pansy, though, paid no more attention to hat was happening around her. Her mind was awhirl with plans and strategy. Draco might be considered the Ice King of Slytherin, but her title as Dark Princess was still uncontested. She would show them why.  
  
She might not be a Gryffindor, but she still took some of their mottos at heart.  
  
Never give up. . . never surrender. . .  
  
Add to that the guts, the coldness, the patience, imagination and cunning required to create plans from scratch and see them threw. . .  
  
Draco had once called her a ticking bomb. . . whatever that may be. . . but now she was a threatened snake, an angry one, ready to strike.  
  
If they wanted things to be that way. . . let them come. She was no longer afraid, and she would show them what she was capable of.  
  
A look towards the girls standing beside her, told her she know had powerful allies nearby. The same searching look directed towards the other edge of the hall, told her that the same could be said for many of the boys there. Most of the older ones now had new, resolute expressions on their faces.  
  
Voldemort had begun a war. . . and he had come looking for it to Hogwarts.  
  
Dumbledore and the other teachers may no longer be inside it's halls, but their pupils remained.  
  
The Dark Lord was in for a lesson. . . one she would make damn sure he would never forget, for as hopefully short as his life would be.  
  
No one in their right minds had ever even tried to mess with Hogwarts, and he would soon realize why.  
  
It was quiet simple, actually.  
  
Because Hogwarts was not only a building, a magnificent castle.  
  
No. . . Hogwarts was more than that.  
  
It was its dwellers hearts. 


	23. Chapter 22: Anya LeFey

Chapter 22  
  
Anya had hated her name for as long as she could remember. Especially after her mother had explained that she was named after a she-demon from a muggle TV-show her mother had loved as a teenager. It had taken Anya a lot of screaming to get her mother to stop calling her "Anyanka".  
  
Her best friend and companion in misery, Willow, hadn't been as lucky (the character she was named after had no other names).  
  
Also, for as long as they could remember, both girls had known that they were witches.  
  
Powerful ones, as her mother loved to tell them.  
  
Much to their mothers' regret, though, neither of them had been able to get a proper magical education.  
  
Born on Earth (at England, to be precise) and into powerful, rich families, both of them would have had golden childhoods were it not for the raise to power of the Dark wizard called Voldemort.  
  
Both their families had been against the man, but had decided not to openly act against him.  
  
As it turned out, it had been a fatal mistake.  
  
Both light and dark had turned their backs on them, and when the Deatheaters had raided their ancestral homes there was no help.  
  
Both them and their mothers had already been sent to the colonies, and thus were the only ones that survived.  
  
If that sort of thing didn't tie people to one another, they knew not what did. The four of them had become inseparable.  
  
And then war had exploded in the muggle world.  
  
Through it, and realizing that their daughters now stood a nil chance of getting to Hogwarts, their mothers taught them magic.  
  
When the letters had arrived, five years late, they had been ecstatic.  
  
And now both of them were Voldemort's prisoners.  
  
Hogwarts, first and foremost stronghold of light, had been the first to fall.  
  
They both watched, horrified, as Voldemort cursed one of his own servants.  
  
They were expected to survive (and stay sane) while in the power of this madman??  
  
The horrifying death of the blond girl at the hands of that. . . that. . . that creature, clearly showed what this people were capable of. . . what they were willing to do, and it put into blinding obvious perspective how little any of them could do in this situation.  
  
The calling of her own name and the sudden bout of murmuring that overcame the Great Hall awoke her from her musings and she moved to take her place under the hat.  
  
There were already two couples of "masters" and "slaves" standing to the side, and six children had already been picked into the "death" group.  
  
For a second, she wondered if all of them were muggleborns and then decided she really didn't want to know. She had enough muggle friends to know that there wasn't anything wrong with non-magical folk. The thought of someone hating and killing people for something they couldn't change made her queasy.  
  
The hat was set on her head, and she heard a tiny, weathered voice speaking within her mind.  
  
-"You do know I have to do this against my will, don't you?"  
  
-"Still, this is wrong."  
  
-"Believe me child, I know. I'm trying to keep as many alive as I can, but the parameters set are. . . difficult."  
  
-"Perhaps you are not trying hard enough."  
  
-"Very Slytherin of you, my dear, to ask of people more than what they can give."  
  
-"But we are not talking about houses."  
  
-"And yet, it always come down to them."  
  
-"Does it?"  
  
-"The appropriate question would be "doesn't it?". Voldemort, heir of Slytherin, or at least his followers, believe in the purity of their blood."  
  
-"If our blood hadn't mixed, we would be extinct."  
  
-"But this has happened in more recent times, child. And the Deatheaters believe in the one that upholds the way of thinking of Slytherin."  
  
-"A man that lived in a different world."  
  
-"Indeed."  
  
-"But surely Voldemort realizes this. I've been told he is a half-blood himself."  
  
-"You begin to understand. This world works on appearances, child, and those can be deceiving. Now, I believe that you should LIVE!!!"  
  
It took her a second to realize that the last word had been screamed out to the school and that everyone was waiting for her to move.  
  
With a flushed face, she took of the hat and handed it to the Deatheater. Those selected for life welcomed her with open arms, and they all took places so that they could, hopefully, welcome their friends and relatives into life. 


End file.
